sunday

maybe it was the weather, or that my sister’s boyfriend swept the floor for me despite the sling around his arm, or maybe it was the purple dress that i wore to church with the nude heels that are totally worth the pain they inflict upon my feet, or maybe it was getting to make chicken alfredo for ten of us, or seeing friends and family that i love all sitting together at the dinner table on our front lawn, or maybe it was the teasing and laughing that happened all night, or the hand on my leg under the table just to remind me that it was there, or maybe it was all the giggling that you wouldn’t think could come out of the mouths of grown men, or maybe it was the rolo cookies and the three bottles of martinelli’s and the one bottle of some interesting looking mango lemonade, or maybe it was the sweet boy doing my dishes or walking into the living room and catching some lovebirds kissing on the couch, or maybe it was just that it was sunday and sundays are the best days, but whatever it was, there was a point yesterday when i looked around me and thought, this is it. this is what it feels like, to be way behind on sleep and to have a take-home midterm and an unwritten six-page paper waiting in your backpack and to have romaine lettuce scattered all over the floor in the kitchen and a million dishes to wash and, regardless of all of that, to be utterly and irrevocably happy.