Sunday Kind of Love

I want a ‘watching a Pixar movie with the kids while eating dinner’ kind of love.

A ‘rolling over in the morning to see you and smiling at how lucky I am’,

‘holding hands while grocery shopping’,

‘dancing around the kitchen singing along to a great song and enjoying your hands on my hips and in my hair’

kind of love. 

I want honesty and compassion, a relationship built around loving love.

I want to wake up to you in the morning and go to bed with you at night.

I want to go on Sunday fishing trips with the kids, rolling our eyes when they ask us for the 80th fucking time

“Are we there yet?”

Throwing snacks at them to keep them occupied and quiet for just 5 minutes.

I want to be in your arms on a Wednesday night after you worked all day, to take away the frustration you express to me on your breaks.

I want to giggle about dumb shit, about pickles

and eye contact with Jesus.

Socks and butter and Gilbert Gottfried reading dirty novels.

I want to laugh with you at some ungodly time in the morning because sleeping means I can't stare at all of the things I find beautiful about you.

I want to dance with you.

In bookstores, coffee shops, your room, everywhere.

I want to take pleasure in the way you roll your eyes at me because underneath it all, I know you love watching me.

Even and especially when I look like a moron.

I want to sing in the kitchen with you while I try to teach you how to cook all your favorite meals.

I want to joke about your ‘rolling through stop signs because you say they're only a suggestion’ bullshit,

laughing when you mention all the curbs I've hit in your presence.

I want a family.

A home.

I want all of that with you.