I Am The Weekend

“I am the weekend.”
That’s what he said.
“You’ll wait for me
Throughout the week.
And then.
Then, I will arrive.”

“You’ll have me for
One day.
Two days.
Three days
If it’s a holiday.
Otherwise, just two.
Then, I will be gone.”

She thought it was a good idea.
She thought it was a brilliant deal.
There would be no daily drama.
No dreadful jealousies.
No petty fights.
Just two days
Three at the most.
And they’d move on
To the rest of the week.

He came for one day.
And she liked it.
He came for a second day.
And she liked it.

Then, he left.
And then, he was gone.
Gone until the weekend arrived again.

She liked it less and less
As time went by.
The days in between were miseries.
So many long and endless days.

And he was there
For one day
For a second day.
Occasionally for a third day.
And then, he’d leave.

Then, she wanted him to stay.
But he would not stay.
He never did stay.
He would smile and say,
“Sorry, but I am the weekend
And now I must leave.”

2 thoughts on “I Am The Weekend

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