You were working weekdays and I was busy with school, so we made weekends our time.

We were inseparable, you and I. Two sides of the same coin. We would count down the days until Friday just because we could. We’d finally meet after five, horribly boring days and see each other face to face rather than via snapchat filters and goodnight-texts.

We would stay up all night just to get all the time we possibly could with each other. And when we finally would fall asleep it’d be entangled in each other’s arms, because not even sleep could do us apart.

We could drink ourselves silly if we wanted to, dancing in that god-awful apartment of yours that we both still loved and held so dearly.

Then, out of the blue, your feelings faded and the music stopped.

Now I drink wine on Wednesdays, forever left to wonder if you have a new girl in your apartment, doing our things on the weekends.