Thursday that feels like Friday. Why is this short week feeling so long?

I read her text out loud to him and laugh. Not surprised at all.

A confirmation.

The people. The people. Remember the people.

Us and her homemade beans and pesto and bread all at a little table in the middle of a crowded room, and yet it also feels like we made our own little world.

I don’t know. I don’t like that I don’t know. But I don’t think anyone knows. So we’ll just keep on doing what we’re doing.

I tell her the story about finding it on Craigslist and how for years I’d had a Pinterest board called “A Place in the Woods,” and so when I saw it, it was an easy choice. This is what I had been asking for. This is what I needed. I still need it. I can’t imagine leaving.

Real talk.

Just the two of us for dinner. Pot roast and mashed potatoes and Game 1.

But really, there is no choice but to relax into the uncertainty of it all.