I look forward to them because it’s the only day I get to sleep in, the day that I clear out space in my usually busy schedule for nothing; nothing but Christopher.

But then as soon as he goes to bed (sometime between 3-5pm depending on his current sleep schedule and whether or not we are on Daylight Savings Time), the Christopher part ends and the nothingness begins.

Intentional or not, healthy or otherwise, Saturdays have turned into kind of a day of mourning for me, one characterized by emptiness and by the lack of his nearness. It’s the day that I was meant to enjoy because I could spend it with Christopher but the day I generally waste because I can’t.

Saturdays are a lonely day, mostly by choice. It’s not that I don’t have friends I could be spending the day with or the lack of fun things to do. On the contrary, I avoid committing myself to anything social in nature on Saturdays. For that reason, there is no need for pity of any sort. The sadness I feel every Saturday is nobody’s fault but mine. It’s just that every time Saturday comes around, all I want to do is a spend a day missing him.

7 more Saturdays to go.