“You look like you could do with a friend, she said
You look like you could use a hand
Someone to make you smile, she said
Someone who can understand
Share your trouble
Comfort you hold you close and I can do all of these
I think you need me here with you”
– “Wendy Time”
The Cure

The morning sun would shine through my blinds, I’d roll over and he would be there with me. There was something magical about those days. Some mornings we would be rushed – we had gotten in late the night before, I would be getting ready for work. He would look at me through one barely opened eye and smile, as I scrambled around my room in the dark looking for a pair of matching shoes.
Running errands together always seemed better than usual. Grocery shopping became a hobby for us – navigating the cart through the store, picking through the produce, choosing the perfect bottle of wine to go with the meal we had planned for that evening.
I would cook dinner, he would read in the other room with the television on for background noise. He would share passages from whatever book he was reading, I would comment on the meal I was preparing and share stories from the day.
I hated cooking to simply feed myself. Food was meant to be shared, over a table, over conversation. I would prepare elaborate meals from cookbooks, appetizers, salads, desserts.
He knew I despised doing the dishes and cleaning up. I would pick up around the house while he did the dishes – sometimes I would pitch in by drying them and putting them in the cabinets.
He knew my routine – I liked to take my bath at night, and then put in a movie that we both knew I would never stay awake to finish. We would relax on the air mattress that now lived in the middle of the living room – the couch was simply not meant to comfortably fit two.
There was a feeling of comfort, a feeling of safety, and a feeling of calm. The ordinary events of each day seemed better – more purposeful when shared with another.

“So quit your life and stay with me
We’ll order in and watch TV
We’ll paint the house and wash the car
We’ll take a walk but not too far
So quit your life and stay with me”
– “Quit Your Life”