Saliency

A Tuesday kind of love is this: commuting to work knowing that someone cares about what you’re going to have for lunch; understanding that you do not have to be your dynamic, charming, weekend self this time; this time you can butcher sentences and make bad jokes and trip over thin air and it won’t change anything. A Tuesday kind of love is when weekends and weekdays are one and the same, expanses of time where unpredictable, irreplaceable closeness exists, swells, bursts. Tuesday is directionless conversation about things that happened five hours or five years ago; it’s knowing where he keeps his receipts and when he has a doctor appointment; it’s ordering Chinese food or taking his parents out for dinner because they’re in town or forgetting to eat because you’re full of each other’s words and there’s just no room for anything else.

I don’t want to dream through our lives together, don’t want to sleep in, don’t want to put on my sunglasses and pretend that life’s a vacation. The fantasy is that I want to exist in reality; the fantasy is to be there for someone on a Sunday morning but also on a Tuesday night, when the haze and laze of the weekend has worn thin and seems far away as ever. I want a Tuesday kind of love.

This mortification and chagrin is mine to keep and yours to wonder. This is so weird, and it’s strange how these foreign feelings I haven’t felt before for the past 21 years of my life keep making transient appearances all together these days. Awkward relationships formed out of circumstances beyond normalcy. It’s like simplicity has forgotten its place in my life – oh god, have you forsaken me already.

Oh, and if you think you know what I’m talking about, chances are you’re 99.999% wrong. If you think you’d likely be the person who would know about this, you’re probably not. It’s the type of issue I would rather hold my peace about, so I’d appreciate if silly guesses aren’t made.

I really wish I had something like this to my own, and skip this whole phase of oscillating back and forth between putting myself down and getting myself back up. What’s wrong with me?

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Saliency

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