mayday

Day begins with screaming fight.
Day ends with raspberry cheesecake concrete from Sheridan's.

Day begins with racing, eggs and sausage.
Day ends with pillow-throwing argument.

That's my weekend in a nutshell.

There were other moments in between. I saw an old friend and thought how lovely she looked, with her bright green eyes and long, glossy dark hair. She had a casual, peaceful grace that made me want to sit down and hold her hand for a while to see if her beauty was catching. I cleaned my house. I cut the grass. I ate homemade pizza and I made enchiladas. I read about half of a very good book in the small chunks of time I carved out late at night.

I did not laugh as much as I wished but I watched T and K laughing together and that made me happy.

I am exhausted by the fighting but too scared to give in and quit.

I was accused of being in love with someone else.

Impossible, as love takes many, many years of knowing and understanding and compromising. It is a secret language, a routine, a place where separate lives touch and create a unique space.

One day, leaning on another. A house of cards?