me on a tuesday

 
by the time we got to bed last night, the half moon was high in the sky, an early morning storm was blowing the pin oaks around, and pablo could hardly keep his eyes open. it was a long night of grocery shopping, weekend planning, and trips to my grandpa's house in the bus.

and as we often do when we're tired and have a mind full of things to talk about (an overwhelming amount of things to talk about), we were silent. we laid in the bed, he with his hand over his head and me on my side, and just took in midnight.

i asked him if he was okay, and he turned to me.

yeah, babe, i'm fine. this is just me on a tuesday.

and those sweet words hung there in the air between us, right in front of pablo and the glow of the shed light outside our window. what intense comfort. this is us. just us on an ordinary, nothing special day not quite in the middle of the work week.

with bills on our desk and squash in a brown paper bag on the kitchen counter. with twelve rolled white t-shirts on top of the washing machine and more laundry in a basket by the door. with stresses and blessings and the never-ending search for those little moments of glory between the chaos.

i've known robert in jamaica, with cerulean waters lapping his ankles and jerk chicken on his cheeks. i've known him at an alter, barely into his twenties. i've known him in high school, standing at my front door as just a stranger with his dad's old BMW waxed up. and i've known him in a tiny dorm room, with a twin bed and futon, bulky television set and a sofa from goodwill.

but last night i knew him best of all. on a tuesday. and if every tuesday from here on is just holding hands under the covers without speaking and letting our worries cast themselves up to Heaven without voice, i'm a lucky girl.

for to know him is to love him.