Say you start a date with dinner on a Friday night and it ends on Sunday afternoon.
And you spent a good number of the hours in between those two moments in time doing the following: wandering around your neighborhood, holding hands, taking pictures of stuff to turn into silk screens (and he, like much of the Western world, is so much taller than you, with such longer arms, was totally willing to extend the long reach over the fences of neighbors to photograph a particularly enticing leaf much closer than you'd be able to manage), poking your noses into fun shops, meeting up with friends, and grabbing meals and glasses of wine along the way.
And when you said goodbye, after what turned out to be quite an extraordinary amount of time in a row, you realized you could easily, comfortably, happily have spent more time with this fellow.
Then, even though you have this well-constructed terror, based on multiple data points, that everything can be arbitrary and anything can end at any moment...And you are self-aware enough to realize full well that sometimes the arbitrary and the complicated can be traced back directly to you...
All of this still makes you wish it were Wednesday already.