Monday Morning is Hard
Mar. 19th, 2007 07:53 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cinema_babeMonday has traditionally been my favorite day of the week. Monday was a blank, hopeful slate; a fresh piece of paper, a new beginning.
Sunday evenings generally ended with the sound of Jim's key locking my front door, or, on those weekends when he was too ill or it was too late to visit, his voice on the phone telling me I was falling asleep and it was time for me to hang up the phone.
On Sunday nights he would tuck me in, literally. I would get dressed for bed, he'd make or freshen up my bed and he would pull up the covers and tuck me in with a lover's kiss. The last sound I'd hear before dropping off to sleep would be the key I gave him locking my front door.
Oh, I told you that already. I'm sorry, I'm stuck in a bit of a repetitive loop these days.
I was okay this weekend; I was even okay Sunday night, but this morning the sense of loss is playing my heart strings like Segovia.
There was a time something like this would have destroyed my life. I would have gone completely off the rails and turned up with some new hair cut, in some new city, cultivating some new vice.
I don't need to do that scene anymore. I feel like my belly is full of broken glass but I know that I'll be okay. Eventually.
I just need to get through Monday.
Sunday evenings generally ended with the sound of Jim's key locking my front door, or, on those weekends when he was too ill or it was too late to visit, his voice on the phone telling me I was falling asleep and it was time for me to hang up the phone.
On Sunday nights he would tuck me in, literally. I would get dressed for bed, he'd make or freshen up my bed and he would pull up the covers and tuck me in with a lover's kiss. The last sound I'd hear before dropping off to sleep would be the key I gave him locking my front door.
Oh, I told you that already. I'm sorry, I'm stuck in a bit of a repetitive loop these days.
I was okay this weekend; I was even okay Sunday night, but this morning the sense of loss is playing my heart strings like Segovia.
There was a time something like this would have destroyed my life. I would have gone completely off the rails and turned up with some new hair cut, in some new city, cultivating some new vice.
I don't need to do that scene anymore. I feel like my belly is full of broken glass but I know that I'll be okay. Eventually.
I just need to get through Monday.
