Monday afternoons

My bones ache for you. My skin, my mind, my soul. I know you're somewhere, like I am, just doing the best you can. I love you. I have loved you since the first time I saw you. I want to know you. Really know you. I want you to really know me. I want to tell you stories of my childhood and hear stories from when you were a child. I want to tell you of the places I've been and I want to hear all the places you still want to go. I want to take you to those places. I want time with you. I want to fold your laundry. I want to cook you food. I want Sunday mornings with you. And Saturday nights. And Monday afternoons.