Quoted By:
Arriving home from work, you're exhausted and frustrated. Your bitchy manager found something to nitpick you about again and forced you to redo the project you've been working on tirelessly for the past week. You unlock the door and step inside the apartment, ready to vent to your boyfriend Wilson. The silly jokes he cracks always make you feel better, no matter how awful your day goes. You stop short when you're about to call his name as you're struck by the realization that the apartment is empty - the man you said goodbye to in the morning is gone, left to work his night shift, maybe you even passed by him entering the nearby underground train station as you were walking up to the building. You should've expected this - has this not been your daily life since he switched his timeslot to the late night-early morning shift? - but it's a fresh pain every time you come home to a still room. You pick up your phone and dial his number, glimpsing your call history of nightly calls, each one no longer than a couple minutes. These and the small early morning conversations that occur in the rare moments that your schedules overlap are all the opportunities you have to speak together since he changed shifts. As the phone's dial tone rings in your ear you picture Wilson, still on the train headed to work, picking up his phone at the ring. You'd like to imagine that maybe he smiles when he sees your name, maybe he wishes he could be there with you, maybe he misses you like you miss him. After a moment's wait you hear him inquire through the receiver, his familiar voice alleviating some of the heaviness inside you. Like yesterday, you ask him when he'll be coming home. You already know the answer but you ask him anyways. And like yesterday, your heart sinks when he gives you the expected response.
