So maybe our nights are not filled with
candle-lit dinners and roses splayed across our bed
and elaborate gifts like watches and paperweights
that will sit in the closet eventually
and take up space that we don't have.
Maybe we both get home from work or school respectively
and argue about whose day was longer,
or whose feet hurt more.
And maybe we eat pasta every night
and fall asleep to the television
and let the laundry pile up.
And maybe I love the way our life is
and someday when we go on candle-lit dinners
and have roses on our bed
and give each other pointless gifts,
I will be wishing we were back here.
And I will miss our pasta and television nights
and sweet whispers of affirmation before falling asleep
and the tufts of hair that come out from under the covers
as you dream about our future.