A night for a juicy book or an intriguing film. A night for tea with honey. A night for a cozy blanket. A night for a nice little chat to warm the heart. A night to say I love you.
I had been waiting to talk with him for the entire day. Thinking 'oh I should remember to tell him about this!' and 'how funny, i'm sure he'll laugh at this' and 'I should ask him what he thinks of this.' Missing him, thinking about him, wanting to hear about his day. Wanting to hear his voice.
Okay, I guess let's talk tomorrow then?
What? But I...
Well...I was telling you something.
Yea I need to make another phone call and then get to bed. Give me a call tomorrow.
Well. You're cutting me off. I thought we were chatting.
...Oh...we can talk...
No, it's fine. I'll talk to you tomorrow.
I had spoken with his friend for fifteen minutes. I spoke with him for five.
And I know that he'd been out and I know it was late for him and I know he had a friend staying over and I know he wanted to make another call and I know he wanted to get to bed and I know was probably tired.
But now I'm just sitting here watching the crazy tree in the crazy half circle of light with the crazy raindrops lashing against it, trying to remind myself that I need to stop making another person the highlight of my day. Because having my mood mimic those branches and getting this upset about something this size is really just ruining my cozy rainy night. And nothing should have the power to do that.