You lose yourself in dreams about coming home and falling into his arms [He is, of course, just waiting for you to enter your “temple of love” (aka apartment)]. You are dreaming up some wild kissing and passionate love-making.
With your hopes all up you finally reach the doorstep. You slowly turn the key, sing “Hello, darling, I’m home” and … wait … two minutes have passed … you are still waiting (in case you were wondering).
And if you hadn’t moved you would still be waiting. Coz he’s sitting in front of the TV enjoying WHATEVER and not thinking about jumping up from his seat and doing to you what you have so nicely came up with in your secret dreamworld.