You wanted to make it perfect;
I wanted to make it perfect—
this long-awaited day when distance would dissolve,
when years of separation would finally end.
We had rehearsed this moment in our minds,
polished it like a cherished photograph,
but the day had other plans.

The morning came with stubborn traffic,
delayed trains and missed connections.
Even the weather seemed to conspire—
cold where sun was forecast,
detours where clear paths should have been.
Why today? I whispered to the sky,
Why on our reunion day?

Hours stretched like rubber bands
as I watched the empty meeting place,
my heart keeping time with footsteps
that weren't yours.
The perfect reunion—
that carefully scripted moment
of tears and joy and recognition—
slipped through our fingers
like sand.

But then you appeared,
breathless and apologetic,
your familiar smile breaking through
the day's frustrations.
The delays hadn't mattered;
the imperfect timing had become
perfectly us.