So Kevin’s gone, and we know this by now. We know this because I keep talking about it, but I mention it maybe once or twice a day, whereas I think about it constantly. Like in the mornings, when I wake up next to a vacant pillow and a dish-less sink where once there was the predictable empty cereal bowl…or in the afternoon, when I come home between jobs, and there is no one to lie next to and talk with, no-one to share a quick nap…and at night, when I eat some shitty semblance of a dinner, because what does it matter if I’m only cooking for me? Because planning meals together was our new thing, and now I must content myself with frozen pizzas and wine and hours of Netflix…
* * *
Oh, but let’s not dwell on the sad times. Let’s think happy thoughts. Let’s envision a perfect Autumn day. (Autumn always was our favorite season, after all)…
I think we’ll start out by sleeping in, just a little, just until 10 or so. Then a quick bike-ride downtown, where we’ll eat waffles and fries from Bruges on a rooftop terrace while imagining what it would be like to live there.
Then we’ll swing by Caputo’s to pick up supplies…
…before heading off for a leisurely ride along the Jordan River Parkway.
We’ll pause to take pictures, admire oddities, explore a peace garden, and have a picnic.
After hours of riding, we’ll indulge in massages at the Kura Door, where no pictures will be taken, because we’ll be too busy giggling and whispering and debating whether to leave our underwear on or off and a billion other unspoken rules that we may or may not be breaking. Then Sushi, at Ichiban.
And we won’t tear up, sitting across from each other, thinking of how this day, this wonderful day in the sun, will be our last for a while. We won’t sob like babies all the way to the airport, or cry in the staff room on our off-desk hour, or seriously consider buying a ticket for the first plane heading home.
No, ours will be a day in the sun, a day that lasts forever.