Another day dawns, darkly. How are you today, Darkly? Darkly darkly.
The lines of communication remain open. WAW texted -- barely today, around 2 minutes past midnight. Knowing her, she hung on with gritted teeth until that ol' Witching Hour was upon her, trying desperately not to communicate on the day I'd been darkly. Knowing her, she views it as a contest of wills -- Humph! If he doesn't, I won't!
And darkly I replied with nary a word, but answered the text by doing what it asked be done, namely to include amongst the Things Left Behind to be picked up a wine rack WAW received as a gift from a secretary in Days Gone By, which she will gather up this evening.
And, as WAW'd requested, I copied the receipt from House O' Office Supplies for the money spent on the kids' new school year gear, so that she can reimburse me for half.
And also as WAW'd requested, I transferred the utility bills to my name only.
So I am not Dark, in that I live as if there is/was/shall be no WAW.
No, I'm Darkly. I am "friendy" -- if it needs done, and it's appropriate that it be done by me, it is done. But the doing needs no conversation.
But I don't do cruel; I don't do aloof; I don't do resentful; I don't do regretful.
But neither do I do chatty (as she'd like); happy (as she'd like); date-y (as she'd like); "normal" (as she'd like [and as she defines it]).
Darkly darkly, thank you very much, and we will see where it leads us, this path between the dawn and the dark of night, this path that is for my steps alone.
