Counting (pt. 1)

You made me feel wanted (and wanting)  
Although you called me a friend,  
As I tried to make you mine,  
Counting the years,  
Years of wait, that they did seem,  
But they were merely days of pale spring.  
   
You had me chasing your name,  
Summoning the thought of you,  
As I tried to keep in touch,  
Counting the months,  
The gruesome months you went away,  
But you left to, some day, return.  
   
You kept me looking and waiting  
When, finally, you did arrive,  
As I tried to light a spark,  
Counting the days,  
Days to meet you once again,  
But in a friendly meeting, only that.  
   
You made me wait even more so,  
Until our timely encounter,  
As I tried to grasp that moment,  
Counting the hours,  
Hours to spend at your feet,    
But not to waste by your side.  
   
You spoke of yourself, not of us,  
It all went according to plan,  
As I kept my secret love untold,  
Counting the minutes,  
Minutes trying to devise your signals,  
But unaware that you understood mine.  
   
You told me it was time (at last!),
Perplex, but doubtless, I took you,  
As I tried to lay my love,  
Counting the seconds,  
Blissful seconds, beyond time,  
Time shared, but not perceived, which merely passed.