"How was your day?" Karen said.
"Okay." I replied, "It's Tuesday, nothing extraordinary."
"Tuesdays rarely are sweetie."
She had a certain glow about her. It could have been the computer screen she was grazing over. But it wasn't. She looked at the screen begrudgingly as she tried to put the finishing touches on one of her numerous term papers. When she glanced at me, she was beaming.
But a relationship goes both ways, and the glow she saw on my face was borne of cathode rays.
And that was the first time that I realized I wasn't in love with her. Years had turned into month. Months have turned into Weeks. Weeks had turned into days. Time passed, as it did for everyone, but the most telling thing about the decline in our relationship was that Saturdays had somehow become Tuesdays.
Life was mundane, and I, had stopped noticing how beautiful life really was. When you quit taking account of those little things time just goes by faster. And you get old. And you die.
Death is an ugly thing. And this Tuesday just happened to be extraordinary.
"I'm calling off the wedding." I said. "I know you told me I probably get cold feet when we got closer to the date, but this isn't just cold feet. I think you should know that."
