Dear Weekend,

once upon a time, we were friends.
I don’t even recall when this changed, but when I think back, it seems, you’ve been such a traitorous bitch for the past couple of months. It is probably my fault, so I should apologize for calling you names, but damn… I am mad at you.
I long for you, week after week. Welcome you with open arms when you arrive, always hoping we can go back to the way we were. But every single time it bites me in the ass. When there is nothing left to clean, nothing left to rearrange, vacuum, restock, scrub or build, you leave me alone. Utterly alone. Once, we used to enjoy our time together. Now, when there’s nothing left to do, you leave me all alone with my thoughts – and wow, this is still such a painful experience. I never thought I would say this, but when you’re here, and I have “endured” your presence for more than a day, I long for Monday to come and sweep me away. Keep me busy… keep me away from painful memories, that haunt me (for the time being).

I didn’t mean to call you names. I didn’t mean to sound rude. I am just so disappointed that you and I don’t work out anymore – when I just know how much I really need you.
I hope this period of time will be a short one… and that we will learn to spend time with each other again.
I miss you. Very much.

Faithfully,
The Involuntary Thinker

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4 responses to “Dear Weekend,

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