To Romanticism

You make me wait,
and in doing so,
make me miss the chances.
I should have grabbed his tie,
told him to stay a while longer,
just to confess to him,
both of us livid with cheap wine,
I want him, I want to be with him.
But I wait for you,
the moment that's best for you.
I leave myself behind,
just for you.
Every time.