I Want A Thursday Kind Of Love

Noël Alva
Noël Alva

I don’t want a Tuesday kind of love. I want a Thursday kind of love. The kind of sunrise that, despite the weight of the week standing on your shoulders, brings along a glimmering hope for the days ahead.

A day far past the Monday morning thirst for coffee that is never quite strong enough, offering instead the promise of a cold beer waiting to graze your lips after the work day comes to an end.

A Thursday kind of love isn’t afraid to stand up for itself – to remind you of who you are, and to put you back in your place.

A Thursday kind of love is whispers, “You can do this – you’re almost to the good part.”

I want to tie up loose ends and open new chapters. I want to hear you whine about the guy you can’t stand at work; I want to roll the windows down and perform an interstate concert just for your ears to hear. I want FaceTimes and Netflix marathons and stories and late nights. I want dates, and I want you to let me pay from time to time.

Thursday love is spending my lunch break taking personality quizzes and setting my fantasy football lineup, keeping track in my mind of all of the stories bursting at the seams of my lips to spill out to you. Thursdays are for being human; they are unpredictable. A Thursday kind of love, like slipping on a pair of rose-colored glasses and opening your eyes to the beauty still to be seen.

A Thursday kind of love is this: waking up to that hopeful sunrise kissing my cheek, followed closely behind by the first strike of a down-filled pillow fight.

A Thursday kind of love is the comfortable kind, like a worn-in pair of blue jeans or that old, pilled, and washer-faded sweater.

Thursday love is still realistic, but it is optimistic; the blues and weight that stood on your chest on Wednesday are simply part of the past.

A Thursday love is an independent kind of love, standing on the foundation that only the strength of fighting through the trials and tribulations of the week can build. Thursday is a true test of patience and endurance, the day that quietly (but faithfully) continues to turn the tides.

I don’t want the illusion of a fresh new start, I want depth and heart-to-hearts and humanity. I don’t want to dream through our lives together, I don’t want a fantasy.

I want the type of love that will knock me back on my heels, the type of love that isn’t afraid to tell me “no.” A challenge, a partner in crime, a hand to hold along the way, the best of both worlds. I want a Thursday kind of love. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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