When the day is done


When the day is done, it’ll be nice to take a moment with you. To sit, to breathe, to share.

It’s been a long day. I’m looking forward to sharing every miserable minute with you, dear.

I’ll be home soon, and you won’t have to do anything but listen. Maybe purr sympathetically. Of course, if you had a lousy day, I want to hear about it.

But me first.

We’ll have some wine, and wonder what was so damn frustrating in the first place. After all, life’s too short and all that stuff.

Did I ever tell you this is my favorite time of day? Well, it’s a tie, really. Waking up next to you has its perks. But I like it when the afternoon melts into evening, and we haven’t started cooking dinner yet. A few minutes on the couch is all I need to feel renewed, loved.

Let’s put on some music. You pick. Let’s talk about the mundane and the even more mundane. Fill my ears with sweet nothings about traffic and meetings and unattended errands.

Yeah, I’m hungry. But that can wait. Hold my head and tussle my hair. Loosen my tie and laugh at my foibles.

Be there. With me.

We’ll get drunk on stupid reminisces of what happened five hours ago. We’ll slow down and make it count. We’ll let the day unwind into a pile of itchy dull thread.

And in that perfect end to a perfect day, we’ll be together again.

Let the world fade around us as we shed the weight of hours gone by. And night descends like a starry cloak.


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