Sunday Morning

i remember sunday mornings at the house i grew up in ... i would awake to the sound of football blarring from downstairs, while my dad worked on the car in the garage. they used to be filled with lunches or dim sum with my family, grocery shopping with my mom, fighting my brothers for the washing machine or computer...

sunny sunday mornings are the best. the gentle sunlight peeking in, nudging you to ease you out of bed. sunday's are filled with freedom to relax, get things you've probably ignored throughout the week done, but simply to enjoy yourself.

this past week has been really difficult for me in terms of really feeling what it is to be truly by myself. i've always tried to escape it through continuous relationships, finding new circles, etc. i guess i haven't given myself time with ... myself. it's a bit scary sometimes. all i have is me ... it's so much easier to focus on someone else. somehow, the other person isn't quite as complicated as yourself.

i often fantasize about waking up on a sunny sunday morning with the future love of my life ... we'd get to sleep in a bit, eventually roll out of bed and make brunch while listening to cool-jazzy-urban-relaxing music. we'd eat, read the paper and drink our coffee. we'd laugh at the funnies section, plan our day ... whether it'd be picking up food for the week at the market or taking a stroll at the park or catching something at a museum ... i know they would be a lot of warmth and love ... holding hands ... being silly .... and occasional soft kisses. that would be perfection.

i have faith it's out there ... that sense of warmth, love and completeness. one day, sunday mornings won't be just for one.