7 Monday's ago

7 Monday’s ago my heart dropped as I read things I shouldn’t have
7 Monday’s ago is when I found out you cheated on me with her, my “friend”
7 Monday’s ago I cried for hours
7 Monday’s ago my life turned to hell
For 7 Monday’s, I’ve been miserable and trying to stay afloat as I see you with her every fucking day.
For 7 Monday’s ive missed you more than anything
For 7 Monday’s I’ve faked my happiness like I was okay
It’s sad, because 8 Monday’s ago I woke up next to you and my most fondest dreams were far less more appealing then my reality with you
now 7 Monday’s have passed and i wake up to a nightmare and wanting to sleep forever.
Because 8 Monday’s ago I was alive and now, now I’m sitting here wishing I wasn’t.

Stand Still, Stay Silent

“It’s been 90 years after the end of the old world. Most of the surviving population of the Known world live in Iceland, the largest safe area in existence, while the safe settlements in the other Nordic countries; Norway, Sweden, Denmark and Finland, are small and scarce.

Countless mysterious and unspoken dangers lurk outside the safe areas, the Silent world, and hunters, mages and cleansers will spend their lives defending the settlements against the terrifying beings. Because of a great fear towards everything in the Silent world no official attempts to explore the ruins of the old have been made, and most of the information about it has turned into ancient lore, known by few.

But now, at last, it is time to send out an research crew into the great unknown! A poorly funded and terribly unqualified crew, but a crew nonetheless.”

The window is open and the breeze is so nice and I don’t even mind that it is Monday and I always hate Monday’s but I can’t wait for Monday’s when you have someone. And you want their 530 Monday night when they come home, exhausted and irritated, and they wiggle the tie from their neck and grab a beer and sigh. ‘It was a long day,’ they say but still manage to smile for you. And you sigh and unwind each limb like flowers in spring and you say, 'I know. I’m glad you’re home.’ And you eat dinner together and talk and laugh and suddenly Monday’s are just a bit busier Sunday’s and it’s the person that makes it, ya know? And you climb into bed on a night like tonight where it’s cool but the breeze is promising summer soon, all those winter months are over. And you can see the shadows on their skin and suddenly you wish almost every day could be this sort of Monday, the sort where he’s next to you and his eyes are sleepy but happy and his skin is warm under the covers but a little cool above and you can write words on his collar bones with your mouth or your fingers if you wish it and it doesn’t even have to make sense because what makes sense is touching him after your longest days. And maybe that’s what love is. Maybe it’s just finally wishing every day could be a Monday with him.