Every Monday morning I’d drive you to work, kiss your forehead and wish you luck.
You’d smile, tell me you love me, thank me for driving you to work, and leave.

Every Tuesday night we eat at that really weird restaurant you like. I was never a fan of Ramen, but I like how you smile when the food tastes good.
You tell me about work, how stressful it is, and you apologize for not texting me much because of how busy you are.
I smile, tell you it’s okay and I’m proud of how hardworking you are.

Every Wednesday, I’d drive you home. Your mom never liked me, so I’d just stay outside your gate and kiss you on the cheek before saying goodbye.
You’d tell me that one of these days she’d approve of us, and I’d thank you for securing me.

Every Thursday, we’d fetch your little brother from school and we’d go to the mall.
You’d thank me for not getting tired of doing all of these for us, so your family would approve.
I tell you about how everything will be much better after we overcome this part.
We’d laugh as your brother tells us we’re looking at each other weird again.

Every Friday night, you’d tell me how much you hate me for asking where you are hour by hour, and we’d fight about it.
I’d apologize, promise not to do it again, and scold myself for being too clingy.

Every Saturday, I’d go to the park where we met. I’d sit on the bench overlooking the rest of the park, just staring at you from afar, looking at how beautiful you are.
You’d tell me you’re in the office and you’re not able to text, and I’d just tell you to not forget to eat. I never told anyone I knew the truth.
He’d buy you your favorite ice cream, make you laugh, tickle you.
You’d be on the same spot where I asked you to be mine… as you sit on his lap, chatting and giggling.
He’d stop you from tickling him, look straight into your eyes, move your hair to the side, smile, then put his lips against yours.
You’d play with his hair while you kiss him back.
I’d tell you I’m out with friends for drinks, and I’d go home and drink myself to sleep.

Every Sunday you’d wake me up with a good morning text, telling me about how busy you were the whole Saturday that you weren’t able to text.
I’d tell you it’s no problem,
I’d tell myself it’s fine,
and I’d wish
Like I do every Sunday
that one Monday
you’d have stopped seeing him
and you’d kiss my lips the way you kissed his
and tell me
and only me
that you love me.
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Fictional. Made out of boredom. 🙂