You rest your head on my lap, and our destination is one, maybe two hours left.
It’s like that pinch when you think you’re dreaming, and if it hurts it means you’re not.
My legs start to feel numb and I can’t move,
but I’m enjoying it. Meaning, boy, this is real.
You’re here, closing the distance that brings us closer for the last few months.
You’re really here,
It’s really you,
And I still can’t believe it.