sunday upon sunday.

"i'm so happy to see you today." she said as her eyes flickered down to her shoes and giddy awkwardness was felt between the two. "at least.... i think today is today. i'm always doing this, you see. mixing up the days. it's a dreadful habit of mine. do you want to know how i got it? this habit. i have a very good reason. well it all began the first time i saw you. yes, the first time our eyes locked and your crooked smile spread across your face. it was then that i knew, without a shadow of a doubt, the day was sunday. for sunday is the most perfect of days, my most favorite of days. sunday is the day in which the aroma of coffee ushers in the waking of my well-rested body and i spend hours upon hours in the sun, reading books and eating strawberries. and since sunday is the most perfect of days and my most favorite of days then it made perfect since that seeing you---the most perfect of a person and my most favorite person---must happen on a sunday. and everytime i saw you there after my brain thought it was a sunday. soon i began to see you more and more. and i had more and more sundays. until i was waking up to you and falling asleep with you and the sunday seemed endless and it was magic. three years of sundays was what you gave me. but then you left. and monday came. that wretched monday like an unwelcomed visitor, an unwanted fact of life. and for a decade i had monday. but now you are here. you are here, standing before me saying you want me again. that you messed up and you are ready to give me sunday again. bright and shining sunday. oh it seems too good to be true. but here's the thing: you gave me sunday. and it was great. but i have only ever known a life of monday or sunday so now i must venture out, move on, take a breath and leap into another day. experience a tuesday or saturday or a thursday. because sunday left me broken and monday has made me cruel. so i must say goodbye to you, dear sunday. and hello to the start of a new day."