it was a bad day at first because it was bad. like, really bad. like, passive-aggressive, rude, shitty work, physical pain, people treating you like you deserved nothing. 9 hours of it. crying in the bathroom. stress. anger. actual anger, bitterness on your end. never happens.
it was 7 hours of good. that's less than 9. but it was so good that ratios are meaningless. it was so good because bad is just plain bad but the good was profound. singing together while the night sky covered up the air like a darkly tinted lense. uncontrollable smiling at how cute someone apparently can look in so many dresses. mooncake and surprises and late night cuddles. so much laughing.
this is the truth now, i guess. no more sad naps starting at 6pm because the day was so bad and all you want is to forget and un-exist. no more thoughts of harm and xanax and other ways to self-immolate. now you have hope and optimism and something to look forward to. even when the day might be bad, it will actually always be good, because she is in it, and coming home to her outweighs the job, the sadness, the anxiety. you'll work yourself into her arms and her eyes, and it'll all work itself out.
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