There’s something about Friday that gets me all mushy even now when I have two kids and getting mushy really is more of a privilege than anything. Friday is the perfect date night. It isn’t Saturday night crazy or Thursday too soon or Sunday ‘gotta-go-home-early-weekend’s-done-already’ sinker. Friday’s just right. Give it a sweet stroll down the boardwalk, some candid Coltrane to open up the soul, and a thoughtful conversation on absolutely nothing and just about everything. Sounds mushy enough? Sounds perfect to me.
Nope. Haven’t been on a date since…I don’t even remember. Sad. What’s the big deal? I only date one person, and I happen to see him every God-given day. Why would I want to take extra effort to see him outside of where I see him all the time? Ha. It’s funny. But I won’t laugh out loud because it’s way past the household’s bedtime, and nobody wants to wake up any sleeping children.
This post was supposed to be all about romanticism as I was feeling this flight of fancy today. Quiet morning. Rainy day. Summer breeze. Vanilla sunset sky. I know nothing beats Friday night pizza party with the whole family. Yet equally, nothing beats alone time with someone you love dearly…your partner, your lover, your husband or wife, your other if not better half. Quick, sideway glances that result to familiar simpers. Stolen kisses in passing, shoulders brushing. Fingers talking in assuring squeezes, warmly clasped with secrets in between. Silent snuggling as one drifts away and the other carefully clings. That was our type of romance tonight. No adventure thrills. No outlandish extravagance. It was family Friday night. And our romance was simple, home-based, all-around quiet goodness.
Stay tuned for the real, romanticized “love in the time of…part 2.” As soon as the privilege comes teasing again, I will go on a date! Goodnight folks! Love someone tonight. And if you feel there is no one to love, love yourself and love the world.