A weekend with a beautiful woman and a Sunday of emotions

I spent the weekend with the love of my life. She's beautiful. I still don't understand how someone so wonderful could want to be with someone as jaded and bitter as I can be, but she does, and I count my blessings. We studied together, she happens to be an ambitious student as well.

Today, we woke up and spent the morning together, studying. I find Sundays hard. I always have. From when I was a child, when Sundays occasionally meant that long distance family would be going back to their lives, to more recent years when it meant I was nursing a hangover and wouldn't be seeing my friends for another few weeks because of school, to more recently where I have to say "goodbye until next time" to this beautiful woman who holds my heart. I usually spend most of my Sunday pretending to study while she runs through her notes, highlighting and adding words of wisdom in the side bars of her texts.

While this spectacle goes on, I sit, glancing at her more than my notes, my knee bouncing in anticipation, my feet shuffling with nervousness, my nails being bitten off as I slowly become a nervous wreck. I leave, usually in the afternoon, to arrive back downtown to scramble to do groceries, laundry and finish up any assignments or prepare for the next day's discussions in class.

So this Sunday, after sleeping and listening to my iPod the entire bus ride instead of studying, I again scramble to do my groceries and prepare myself for the week but I still can't concentrate.

I compose myself.

I reach for a tea and head outside onto my balcony. Something about fresh air and realizing that the world is still turning helps to sober me up and hot drinks always made me feel better.

I reapply myself to my studies, my profession, my life, since today, tomorrow, next week, I don't have the time to deal with emotion and distraction and I realize I am still the fearful 17 year-old boy that I was.