Itinerary

My apartment after a long day. Rain outside and an open window. Something baking in the oven I made. A fresh salad you assembled. Two glasses, different drinks. Some podcast we manage to agree on. You taking sarcastic shots at someone of inferior politics/intelligence/taste on your feed. Me reading a book, making agreeable noises. Those looks across the couch. Dinner ready, meal eaten, drinks drunk, cat fed. We go to bed. Looks become breaths. Below us, an unquiet city. Between us, contentment.

17 Comments

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Good Grief

Dec 10, 2019 at 10:29pm

Zzzzzzzz

Sounds

Dec 10, 2019 at 11:38pm

Like the begining of a sexy Romance novel.
You forgot the forplay, sex scene.
And the cuddling after.
Sexy start though, So
Tell us more.
M.. Romance !
Vancouver loves a good story.

8 13Rating: -5

A reader

Dec 11, 2019 at 3:10am

I enjoyed reading that. If you wrote another I would gladly read it too.

Much respect

Dec 11, 2019 at 10:13am

For anyone that can make their own oven.

Beautiful!

Dec 11, 2019 at 11:28am

The best time I’ve had in my life was spent with my SO. 20 years and counting now. No need to do great things together- just enjoying each other’s company in the simplicity of our life is sufficient.

you win

Dec 11, 2019 at 12:33pm

most boring confession

Nice

Dec 11, 2019 at 3:53pm

congratulations very happy for you

6 10Rating: -4

Us

Dec 11, 2019 at 4:03pm

Before the baby

13 9Rating: +4

lowered expectations

Dec 12, 2019 at 10:22am

that you wrote "taking shots at someone of inferior politics" is one of the saddest most honest things I've ever read.
The depth of someone captured in so few words. It's both lovely and heartbreaking.

OP

Dec 12, 2019 at 2:46pm

To those who scoff and yawn and critique, I understand that you approach this post with certain assumptions. In truth it’s the half-spun fantasy of someone desperate for a simple life with a certain person while knowing with wrenching confidence that it will never happen. It’s the light that bled through a chink in an otherwise steely armor late on a dark night and from the depths of my sorrow. If I could make it be, I would have it. No passionate declarations, no drama, no loss or pain. Just simple togetherness. But I can’t. And this post is part of accepting that reality.

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