(Photo via mustlovedogs) It was early fall, last year and we rented a cottage on this lake up north. Anywhere north of Florida is north and were were happy to get away. It was like, well.. fuck. You know what it’s like when you think that you’ve finally got your relationship figured out, like you know how she’s going to eat that salad, and she knows that after dinner you’ll go to the porch to smoke a cigarette, and when you come in she’ll have cleared the table and she’s waiting for you to open a bottle of wine, even though you know she can open it her damn self, but she’s considerate enough to wait for you? And here we were in this cabin, surrounded by a lake, and rolling hills and there’s a little fireplace, and no tv to distract you and you open the wine and pour two glasses and you click the glasses and then you take a drink and she doesn’t. She just sets the glass down and begins refolding the kitchen towels and it’s really quiet, but you don’t think anything of it, so you walk back to the porch to that shitty rocking chair and the sun’s about to set and you hear her walk to the door way and she sighs. You know what that’s like. I turned my head, and she looked at me and said, “I’m late,” and of course I’m like, “what,” she sighs again and walks back inside, and I hear her unmake the bed. I walk back inside and she’s under the covers, crying and I sit on the edge of the bed and think back, to just a few hours ago when we first got there and everything was amazing and she was playing with leaves and I reach over and put my hand on her leg, a gesture of my understanding and she moves her leg, which is under the covers away. I get up and pour myself another glass of wine, and I tell her that I’m going for a walk. When I come back, she’s packed all of her things back up into that suite case with wheels and she’s sitting on the steps leading up to the cabin. She said she’s waiting on a taxi, to take her back to her mother’s house. I just turn away and walk to the end of the dock and sit down, drain my glass of wine, and lay down on the planks of wood and turn my gaze up to the stars which have just begun to appear for the night.

(Photo via mustlovedogs)

It was early fall, last year and we rented a cottage on this lake up north. Anywhere north of Florida is north and were were happy to get away. It was like, well.. fuck.

You know what it’s like when you think that you’ve finally got your relationship figured out, like you know how she’s going to eat that salad, and she knows that after dinner you’ll go to the porch to smoke a cigarette, and when you come in she’ll have cleared the table and she’s waiting for you to open a bottle of wine, even though you know she can open it her damn self, but she’s considerate enough to wait for you? And here we were in this cabin, surrounded by a lake, and rolling hills and there’s a little fireplace, and no tv to distract you and you open the wine and pour two glasses and you click the glasses and then you take a drink and she doesn’t.

She just sets the glass down and begins refolding the kitchen towels and it’s really quiet, but you don’t think anything of it, so you walk back to the porch to that shitty rocking chair and the sun’s about to set and you hear her walk to the door way and she sighs. You know what that’s like. 
I turned my head, and she looked at me and said, “I’m late,” and of course I’m like, “what,” she sighs again and walks back inside, and I hear her unmake the bed. I walk back inside and she’s under the covers, crying and I sit on the edge of the bed and think back, to just a few hours ago when we first got there and everything was amazing and she was playing with leaves and I reach over and put my hand on her leg, a gesture of my understanding and she moves her leg, which is under the covers away.

I get up and pour myself another glass of wine, and I tell her that I’m going for a walk.

When I come back, she’s packed all of her things back up into that suite case with wheels and she’s sitting on the steps leading up to the cabin. She said she’s waiting on a taxi, to take her back to her mother’s house. I just turn away and walk to the end of the dock and sit down, drain my glass of wine, and lay down on the planks of wood and turn my gaze up to the stars which have just begun to appear for the night.

mustlovedogs

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