Chasing Picket Fences

i slid the tiny draw open and dropped the pendant in. as i went to shut it my fingers traced against the silk of a little black bag. i fished it out and tipped the contents into the palm of my hand. for possibly the 8th time that week i ran the tip of my finger along it's shiny silver edge, sliding it onto my finger. it was too big of course, it would be, it was bought for a man. a wonderful man, with long dark hair and eyes that could light up a room. a smile to make you laugh when you want to scream and cry. a man that had taken my world of chaos and tipped it onto it's head and shaken my over complicated brain into something resembling normal, something beautiful, worth sticking around for.
as i slid it off my finger it all flashed before my eyes, everything i had hoped for, everything i had hoped would slip into place.

i was standing upstairs in a half painted room, droplets of purple paint clumping my hair together, splattering my blue dungarees. a loud crash to my left made me jump and turn around as two boys of about 7 years old came barrelling into the room, waving paint brushes and giggling.
I breathed in, a smile crossing my face, as long, comforting arms encircled my waist from behind, and strong hands rested on my denim covered round belly.
"Hayley's room looks beautiful, babe" he sighed into my ear kissing my neck
"don't tell me, tell those two" i smiled, turning. he bowed his head and kissed my lips softly.
i ran a lavender coloured hand across his cheek, brushing hair away from his face. he shook it back into place less than a second later.
he hadn't aged much, and besides a few more lines around his mouth there was nothing but hair length to show any time had passed at all.

i shut my eyes, fighting back tears that refused to stay and slid the ring back into the bag. not yet. not ready. not yet.