I Think I Miss You Most on Wednesdays
It has rained incessantly since Monday morning. Sometimes it has poured, sometimes a cool, wet haze has just lingered on streets and treetops. These misty fall days are my favorites, but I can't help but get nostalgic as always for autumns past, especially the most recent one--when Rob and I shared an apartment and lived the part-time lives of a student and a barista. Getting home late happened at only three o'clock, and even then there was always time to sprawl out on the couch or in bed with blankets and books and our favorite shows.
More than any of that, though, was coming home to someone and telling him in person about your day. Not on the phone or in an email, but actually face to face, with hot chocolate, and your hand in his.
"So many high points on this last leg,
I can't wait to recount them.
It seems that nothing's happened until I share them with you."
I say a lot of the same things over and over--I love the rain. Fall is magical. I miss Rob. It's all true.
A little long-distance mush for your Wednesday.