It’s quiet here, at home. My Sunday routine of PostSecret, quiet tapping on this keyboard. Tea.
You left early to go and do what you have to do. I would’ve come but, you’re right, I needed to relax.
A very long, very good sleep.
I’m awoken from it with tea and a grin.
You’ll tell a funny story, I’ll interrupt it with my own.
Then it’s mad rush out the door and I sit down and i think.
I ponder the intricacies of where all of this came from, and a friend will phone and we’ll delve, teeth bared and ready, straight into the crunchy centre of the eternal ‘why are we here?’ conversation.
It could be a million things, or none of them at all.
“…could it be to make the world a better place? Or is it just a test to survive it? Where do we end up after this phase because, you know, I wouldn’t have believed you five years ago that this is where you told me I’d be…”
the big questions take a step back and sit down. i roll over and i smile.
none of the big questions plague me in the middle of the simplicity of you and i.