I want a Monday kind of love.
The kind that you both roll over and pull yourselves out of bed for work, tired and groggy, but sit at the table to drink your morning coffee together. Partially dreading the five long days ahead of you, but also excited for a fresh start and the chance to get so much accomplished. You say your goodbyes as you run out the door and head in opposite directions. Losing each other in your rearview mirrors, but knowing you will see each other again soon.
I want a Tuesday kind of love.
The kind love that is directionless. You still don’t know where the week will take you, but you’re still going forward. A Tuesday kind of love is reality. It’s not rolling out of bed on a Monday morning, still groggy from the weekend. It’s paying the bills, running errands and ordering take out. It’s conversation about what your boss did and what’s expected of you this week. It’s looking at each other saying, “we can do this.”
I want a Wednesday kind of love.
The kind that feels like we’ve almost made it, but that we’re in a rut. It’s the kind of day that tests you, the day that shows your strengths and weaknesses. It’s the excitement of closing in on the end of the week, with the history of Monday and Tuesday behind us. It’s the kind of love where you dance around the kitchen making dinner together and sing along to your favorite songs.
I want a Thursday kind of love.
Thursday is a date night kind of night. The week is almost behind you and the weekend is nearly here. A Thursday love is comfortable; you’ve made it through the rough stuff already. A Thursday love is a deeper kind of love. It tells you’re almost there, just one more day, then you have freedom. A Thursday kind of love ties up loose ends, while leading you straight to new beginnings.
I want a Friday kind of love.
The love that is fun, the love you yearn for. A Friday kind of love is the feeling of having endless possibilities and opportunities. You never know what the weekend could bring, but you’re always filled with hope for the best. A Friday kind of love that your morning coffee will be matched with happy hour beers. Filled with co-workers and friends. The kind of day where anything could happen, but either way you are happy and you are thankful.
I want a Saturday kind of love.
A love that is busy or while relaxed. You can make the day whatever you choose. You can sit on your porch and drink your morning coffee before going on a walk through the neighborhood or heading to morning yoga. A Saturday kind of love is all that it’s cracked up to be. You have the freedom to go to a wine festival or go to a friend’s house to watch the big game. A Saturday love is whatever you make it out to be, but it’s always together.
I want a Sunday kind of love, the best kind of love.
The kind of love you roll over in the morning and have nothing scheduled all day. You can lie in bed until noon or wake up and cuddle on the couch watching endless episodes of Netflix. A Sunday kind of love feels effortless; it’s not the Tuesday kind of love where reality hits you. A Sunday love feels like home. Waking up tangled in sheets together, looking into each other’s eyes. Laughing about what Saturday night might have brought. A Sunday love feels invincible, even though you know Monday is right around the corner. A Sunday love is beautiful, just like every other day of the week.