This should have been an absolutely spectacular week. A week filled with dancing and dining at fancy restaurants and going to the Opera and wearing beautiful clothes and looking happy and fabulous, while the sun shone and while the stars came out. Instead, it is a crappy, wet, rainy week. It is colder than it should be in the middle of May and it is certainly lonelier.
Brendan is struggling through another exhausting, dreary week of meetings and flights and Jakarta and hotel food when he should have been here, in my arms and eating raajmah chaawal, his favourite comfort food. He should have been waking up to Iraqi omelettes, our favorite breakfast, not to an anonymous phone call from the reception desk at a hotel.
And I should have been spending my money and my time showing him about town, not ordering clothes online in the middle of the night nor trying out clothes at J Crew after work. I should have been holding hands with my boyfriend instead of buying my first “boyfriend” chino. I should have been on a bateau going to Staten Island with him, instead of buying a bateau teeshirt.
I should have been doing a lot of things but in the meantime, I shall go to bed and paint my dreams with an impressionist art inspired purple skirt and hope that someday, both the weather and my relationship are as cheerful and bright as my wardrobe.