A post about Sundays and nostalgia
The way the breeze floats into my bedroom and the familiar sound of creaking trampoline springs feels like high school, like endless youth and summers spent in my dad’s backyard before the world was bigger than my hometown. Back when everybody still lived within walking distance because we couldn’t just pick up and leave. Days and nights spent dreaming of the getaway. I miss the freedom of spare time where I could just sit on my friend’s bed for hours and not have anywhere to go except maybe home for dinner.
I don’t know what it is about Sundays, but it’s like the universe agreed to just chill out for a while. Nothing feels rushed or strained. I usually don’t have Sundays off but when I do, it feels different. Like a proper day off, to do nothing and not feel guilty about it. Like when I was a kid and didn’t have responsibilities or worries.
If only there were more days for us to be lazy, for us to hold hands on the couch and watch weird movies. For sleeping in and not bothering to get dressed. If only there were more days for us to just be.