I wait for the clock to blink 4:00, much like I imagine a school kid waiting for the end of day bell. 3:58 ... 3:59 ... then, finally, 4 o'clock. I turn off my computer, set my phone to call forward, and ride the elevator downstairs to meet my love. The weekend is finally upon us.
I see him amongst the crowd, and greet him with a kiss. Hands held we walk through the rainy streets of Vancouver in a comfortable silence, sometimes breaking our grasp to weave in and out of the street traffic.
Finally, we duck out of the rain, and slip into the restaurant. For tonight, we've chosen a burger bar to celebrate the end of the week. Decorated in white and black, I love the modern and minimalist feel. Slowly, one by one, our friends join us to feast. We bite into our burgers and much on our fries amongst warm and friendly conversation. We sit for hours, enjoying the company of friends and cold beverages. After we've sufficiently filled our bellies and caught up on life, we all depart. Once home, Hubby and I crawl under the covers and drift off into a peaceful sleep.
The next day is a flurry of activity. Preparation, ceremonies, cleaning, and appointments. We don't really have a chance to speak until nearly 4:30. I walk in the door and am greeted by my love. I slip into my dress, he into his uniform, and we're out the door. On our way to a night of dinner and dancing, and of course, friends. The night fills with food, speeches, performances, and dancing. A good time is had by all. Exhausted from all the excitement, we make our way home. Once in our apartment, it's the same routine: we slip out of our clothes dive under the warmth of the duvet, and drift off to sleep.
Two different nights, with different groups of people, doing very different things. In the end though, it's always the same. Me and him. Curled up in our cozy bed. Happy together.