mourning what i used to loathe

Back in Georgia, Tim and I used to have this…tradition, we’ll call it.

It didn’t happen every week, but it may as well have because this is how I will always remember Friday nights after a long week at work.

Inevitably, Fridays meant neither of us had the desire or the energy to cook anything for dinner so, instead of slugging through the process, we’d usually meet somewhere near the house to have dinner.

More often than not, I’d call Tim to let him know I was leaving and then, because he worked two miles away from the house (I know. Not fair), he’d meet meet at a restaurant we agreed upon instead of us both going home first.

I’d be famished and ready to kill somebody by the time I made it there, thanks to the horrendously famous Friday traffic in Atlanta.

We used to make fun of ourselves, wondering if people thought we were cheating on our spouses because we met at the restaurant in different cars and both had wedding rings on…anyhow.

It was almost always Longhorn Steakhouse.

There weren’t many options out where we lived and this – along with Jim n Nicks and a pizza place called Amici’s – were the ones we seemed to agree on more often than not.

After sitting down, we’d both just expel everything that was driving us crazy about work.

We’d both feel better afterwards. Well, I felt better. I’m assuming Tim did, too.

Sometimes we would stop at this frozen yogurt place on the way home. It was kind of like a one-off Pink Berry type place. I don’t even remember the real name of it because I always called it “Confetti’s.” I have no idea why…just something I did once and it stuck.

Once we were home, we’d veg out on the couch and watch the TV shows we had recorded during the week that we didn’t have time to watch until we started falling asleep. Then we’d make our way up to bed.

This didn’t happen EVERY Friday…but that’s how I remember them. Exhausted. Mentally worn down. Vent session and salad at Longhorns.

It was Friday.

It was comforting.

Granted, at the time, I would have given anything to *not* have to feel that way at the end of every week. I wanted to be somewhere else. I’d moan and complain and beg to be anywhere else but where we lived. I didn’t want to feel so stressed out over my job.

Never in my wildest imagination did I think I’d MISS those Friday nights.

But I do.

Maybe it’s because I know Tim and I will never have a Friday night like that ever again, especially once the sprout is here.

It’s hard to know you are going to have to let go of what you’ve always had…knowing your life will never be the same again. It’s hard to prepare for that…to wrap your head around it…to accept it willingly and with a smile on your face.

I love Tim and me.

I’m going to miss those days where it was “just us.”

It’s really difficult to let go of that life…I can see it slowly slipping away as the days tick closer to the arrival of the sprout.

No longer will life be simple…just the two of us…

I know it will be all that and much, much more with the sprout. I know life will be more fulfilling and full of love with the sprout.

I know it will.

I’m just having a hard time seeing it right now.