Ahh yes it’s 6:16am on Monday Morning and it’s still dark out and I lie here, making notes for my week.
I don’t hate Mondays like most people. I usually look forward to what the new week has in store.
But, Mondays have become kind of bittersweet these days.
The past few weekends have been really wonderful with Mr. K.
I know I haven’t talked about him much here. We have been together almost 30 years and our relationship has endured quite a lot. It is not perfect, but it is ours. We share very little of our lives with the world, because truly, we are nobody’s business.
After a tumultuous last few years, becoming empty nesters, deployments, retirement, becoming re-empty nesters, purchasing a new home, enduring the hard parts of marriage, illnesses, temporary unemployment, we find ourselves madly in love with each other again.
And even more important we have always remained best friends.
We are family and have been since we were teens. And like the two stones that meet at the top of an arch, we lean against each other to bear the weight of our world solidly and with true commitment no matter how difficult it may be.
Mondays are hard for us, because on Mondays we part ways for the week. Me working from home or out and about curating content for my life/work and him, off to his work, out in the world each day with others. By evening, we come back together, exhausted and preparing for the next work day. There is usually very little “us time” during the week.
But those weekends,
we throw ourselves into them wholeheartedly.
We laugh, we debate, we eat, we love.
I used to have squad goals, but in many ways, we are each others’ squad and we throughly enjoy our weekends together, just us two. Although, we occasionally spend time with friends.
Whether it’s attending TEDx talks, brunching, Netflix and chilling, house hunting ( which we never stop doing), going to a boat show, visiting some monument or museum or just doing weekend work together from the coffee shop, we naturally come together.
Even if I’m upstairs creating and he’s downstairs writing a paper for a class or watching football, we are still close. We are still communicating. It has always been like this, even during rough times. We are each others’ respite. I’m sure it would be like this even if we weren’t romantically involved.
It’s kind of weird, but we actually like each other.
Lying here in the dark, watching him get up and get ready for his day makes me kinda sad, because it means our time is over and for the next five days, we belong to the world.
Of course he’s a total morning person and will start talking to me as soon as he sees I’m up. He’s way too awake and animated in the morning, which will remind me quickly why we need this weekly break. I have forced myself to become a morning person and I have no desire to discuss bills, the kids, work, or to explain for the 84 millionth time why I keep forgetting to order the floor paint before the sun comes up. (Please remind me in the comments if you happen to have read this far. Thanks) ☺️
I love Monday Mornings. I really do.
Mondays are my independence, my organization time, my mental notes to remember to never be needy or clingy, my time for introspection.
As all weekday mornings should be.
Mondays are for me. Weekends are for us.
And that’s perfectly fine with me.