We're a Pandemic weekend couple

 I ate dinner looking out the window. The woman in the window of the apartment across the street eats alone like me. She's looking at me. I picked up a glass of wine. She holds a glass of wine, too. 

 Old thoughts come to mind. It was very painful to imagine my father eating alone on a dark evening after my mother passed away. But before I even started worrying, the father had a girlfriend. I was so thankful. My body and mind were comfortable as if I were stretched out in the June months. The father made a new lover again whenever his girlfriend left. I didn't have to worry about my father's loneliness until he died. It was the power of the weight of his thick wallet that looked like a boxing glove. 

 I am alone these days. Ironically, I hated having my father alone because it made me feel uncomfortable, but why would it be so good to be alone without being disturbed by my husband? It's probably because I'm a pretty selfish human being. If I was alone, like when I was studying abroad, I would be lonely and wander around the streets, snooping inside the window of other's house, and lament, but I am within reach of my husband and children now. With the pandemic, we became weekend couples. The artist husband doesn't care about holidays or anniversaries, he sticks to coming on Saturday evening and sticks to going to the studio at dawn on Monday. 

 I sleep when I want to sleep, eat when I want to eat, and do only what I want to do. There is no need to get angry over nothing. 

"If one of us is sick and lies down, one of us making a living, so learn how to live in advance." 

"I see. Mrs. Lee.” 

He takes the food I made on the weekends, but I bought a washing machine a red refrigerator that resembles a mailbox in the 60s, and all appliances in the studio, so that my husband would not be uncomfortable with living. 

 Even after Covid-19 is over, I want to continue the weekend couple. My husband doesn't seem to hate it that much either. Is it my idea? I'm not sure. 

 'Being a weekend couple! You saved your country in the past life.' 

It's a story circulating on the Internet. My feisty personality cannot have saved a country in my previous life. Wouldn't my good mother save the country for me in her previous life? Or is it that my mother's wishes, which she prayed with her sincerity, diligently visiting the temples for the peace of my family, reached me late?