Let’s play a game. It’s called Pretend.
Here’s how you play it.
After a day’s work, go home to me, and I’ll meet you in the doorway.
Kiss me on my lips, while holding me with your one arm, the other holding the sweater you used to keep yourself warm in your bleak workplace.
“I made dinner,” I’ll say, although we both know I’m never into cooking and I hate playing with fire.
Let’s have dinner together, tell me how your day has been while I just silently listen and feign interest in your stories. Then tell me, it was the best dinner you’ve ever had in the same happy tone you use when you tell me that everyday.
I’ll do the dishes, while you change into your PJs. After I finish, I’ll come straight to bed beside you. Spoon cuddle me, kiss me on the back of my head, softly whisper, “good night,” in a tone I can’t tell whether made out of exhaustion or love.
I’ll reply with the same words, but with much less ardour while blankly stare on the cold white wall of the room. I’ll close my eyes, knowing you have the same thoughts as I do. I’ll remind myself this is just another game we are playing.
We’ll play it again in the morning.