It’s only Wednesday.

I remember all of the things I didn’t tell him last night and spit it all out as we make the trek across the bridge. “So many weird conversations, so many weird conversations.”

Another one.

What really matters? None of this.

She asks me how I’m doing. I tell her a list of gratitudes.

But at least I have her.

He insists on driving me to my game, but everything feels off. This is disrupting my routine.

I sit them all down and pass out the medals. One for each of them. An acknowledgment of how they have served themselves and others.

Down by seven at the half. Not impossible. Not impossible.

Up by one. Up by three. Win by three. Win by three. Win. Win. Win.

“Remember when you thought you were losing them?”

Krug and fried olives at Goose and Gander to celebrate.

Falling asleep with happy tears in my eyes.