days until I return home
The boy’s got no feeling for romance.
And here’s what Gwendolyn Brooks has to say on what a marriage (in my writing, I use ‘marriage’ as a shorthand for ‘marriage or other longterm relationship’) is really like. I don’t know why this resonates so with me, but I think it would with T. also.
WHEN YOU HAVE FORGOTTEN SUNDAY: THE LOVE STORY
That the war would be over before they got to you;
--And when you have forgotten the bright bedclothes on a Wednesday and a Saturday,
And most especially when you have forgotten Sunday -
When you have forgotten Sunday halves in bed,
Or me sitting on the front-room radiator in the limping afternoon
Looking off down the long street
To nowhere,
Hugged by my plain old wrapper of no-expectation
And if-Monday-never-had-to-come
When you have forgotten that, I say,
And how you swore, if somebody beeped the bell,
And how my heart played hopscotch if the telephone rang;
And how we finally went in to Sunday dinner,
That is to say, went across the front-room floor to the
Pink-spotted table in the southwest corner
To Sunday dinner, which was always chicken and noodles
Or chicken and rice
And salad and rye bread and tea
And chocolate chip cookies --
I say, when you have forgotten that,
When you have forgotten my little presentiment
And how we finally undressed and whipped out the light and flowed into bed,
And lay loose-limbed for a moment in the week-end
Bright bedclothes,
Then gently folded into each other --
When you have, I say, forgotten all that,
Then you may tell,
Then I may believe
You have forgotten me well.