On Wednesday, I had a rough day. Things piled up and I was frustrated. I sat on the couch, wishing I could just talk to Devon, but knowing he was busy and working and doing homework, particularly an insanely intensive end-of-term project for his Victorian Literature class. He texted me at 10:21:
“Mahal, I did so good today :)
I don’t think I wasted a second.
I hardly got to see you, though.
I hope I can see you tomorrow. . .
Sleep well love. I love you!”
What I wanted to write was:
“I missed you today.
And I had a crummy day.
And I would really appreciate
if you would come over and
make it all better.”
but, i did not say that, instead, I bit my tongue and wrote back:
“I’m glad :) sleep well”
The next day, Thursday, I went in to work at 9:00am and prepared myself for a long workday. I was feeling a little bit better, but also a little lonely. After a few hours of work, I looked up, and standing in the doorway was a tall and handsome man! Devon came to my work, bearing a white paper bag with a brownie inside. I think, at the time, my jaw dropped through the floor. I blinked. He beamed. I blinked again and leapt out of my chair to give him a big hug.
“Thank you!” I exclaimed. “It’s so good to see you. I love you!” (or something like that)
“Well, I saw your text last night, and knew that you wanted me to come over, but I really needed to sleep. I’m sorry”
“How did you know I wanted you to come over? All I wrote was ‘goodnight’?”
“Oh I know you Phoebe. . . ”
I am so in love with that man, over and over again. He makes me weak in the knees and drippy, like the little sloshy puddle of love that I am.
And we’re getting married. August twenty-second two thousand twelve.
thank you very much.