The type of love I crave is not an ordinary kind of love. It’s messy, it’s playful, it’s magical, it’s arguments, it’s “I’m sorry’s”, it’s “I love you’s” and it’s “I adore you’s”. It is a every second of the day, every Monday through Sunday kind of love. It’s never ending.
On Sundays, we will eat breakfast in bed and sip strong coffee until we muster enough energy to begin our day. He will laugh at my messy hair and whisper quietly in my ear that I’m beautiful. We will brush our teeth at the same time, playfully swatting at one another in delight.
Then, our mint tongues will intertwine and we will fall back into bed. And we will be home.
On Mondays, he will grab me from behind as I attempt to leave for work. He will kiss my hand and tell me to never let go. I’ll tell him I never will. I’ll giggle as he pulls me into a bear hug, and smile softy at him as he kisses my forehead that makes my stomach full of butterflies. He’ll make a puppy dog face to me as I leave. And I know that he’ll always be waiting there.
On Tuesdays, I’ll wake up to him running his fingers along my arms. He tells me he loves me and I still get that dizzy feeling that happens whenever those words come out of his mouth. I get dressed in front of the mirror and let him see all the bits I don’t love about myself. He whispers “You’re spectacular” and I feel my whole body glow. He then kisses my stretch marks, my rolls, and my stubble. I am home.
On Wednesdays, I’ll wake up late and snap at him for not getting me up in time. He’ll scowl in annoyance and pull the covers up to hide his face. Then, I’ll tell him to grow up and learn how to apologize like he means it. I angrily walk out the door in a hurry, but am followed by him running out the door half naked, with a kiss, and a “I’m sorry”. I’ll smirk at him as he grins up at me and tell him to stop running around naked in public. He’ll wink at me as he walks away. I’ll smile.
On Thursdays, we will go out to eat at our favorite restaurant. He’ll laugh at my devotion to wine and mock my terrible pronunciation of “Sauvignon blanc”. We will play footsie under the table, and tell each other our stories about the past and the present. He’ll make sure to tell the waiter to give me an extra cherry on top of my chocolate milkshake because that’s just how well he knows me.
We walk home under the stars, and I’ll get red lipstick all over his face.
On Fridays, I’ll call him from work, having a panic attack. He will dash to my office and take me home. As my tears fall and my heartbeat tries to kill me, he’ll whisper that I’m ok and I’m safe and he is there for me. Always. He’ll never leave my side as I weep in fear. And he’ll never leave my side when it’s all over and my face is red as a tomato. He’ll tell me how brave I am and how he can’t believe how strong I am. I’ll tell him thank you for never judging me and for never letting go of my shaky, sweaty hands.
On Saturdays, we will hang out with my parents for lunch. He’ll drink a beer with my dad and help my mom out with chores. He will do it not because he has to, but because he truly wants to. He’ll sit next to me and won’t be afraid to kiss me on the mouth in their presence. They will smile because they now realize that their daughter has found the Monday through Sunday never-ending type of love. Their daughter has found the type of love she deserves and the type of love she has always wished for.
One day I’ll find it. One day we all will.