To the big man,
We must have had glasses of wine in the sunshine on hundreds of occasions. It must have happened. We holidayed; we travelled; we honeymooned. I have photographs of bottles and sunshine and us.
But I feel such a longing when the sun comes out. And such a lot of regret. I can’t help but think of all the times we didn’t have that drink. The times we went for a run. Did housework or paperwork. Worried about the weekday hangover. Worried about something.
And now a bundle of joy has stolen our freedom. And every time it gets warm, I long for the days when we could have just dropped everything and sat, a cold glass in hand and a sun-kissed view. I can’t remember it happening. Maybe I just can’t remember it feeling as incredible as it would now. Maybe it was boring and commonplace. Maybe we drank too much; the first drink would turn into the second bottle. Would turn into the same old fight in the same small flat. Maybe the places were always too crowded. The views blocked. The wine cold. The weight of the world, light as it was, somehow too heavy.
I long to just stop, and have that drink in the sun. With you. Grin at you, and congratulate ourselves on the life we have built. I long. I long and yearn and long.