Yesterday Michael remarked, sheepishly, that he hadn’t gotten me anything for Valentine’s Day. I told him it wasn’t important and I wasn’t a box of chocolates-flowers-love you one time a year sort of girl. He still looked disappointed.
I started to think about Valentine’s Day and there are always those single, thwarted women who are anti-love on this day. There are those that bark it is just a commercial holiday (that would be me), and then there are those women that expect to be lavished in all sorts of finery from their men to prove that they love them.
Michael loves me everyday. I never doubt it for a single second of the day.
Every morning after I work he brings me coffee in bed. When I’m tired or too cold, he walks the dog for me. He makes me laugh, daily. He is affectionate. He treats me like an equal and enjoys my company. He WANTS to talk to me every day. He forgives me when I am forgetful, when I make mistakes, when I am feeling over the top. He keeps me grounded and truthful and inspired. He still likes to hold my hand. He notices (without prompting) when I have slimmed down, when I am quietly upset, when I’m up to something funny. He is my rock, my best friend, my favorite companion.
Michael understands me. He is the matching thread of life to my own. I can’t imagine a moment of the day without him in it. So this one day, Valentine’s Day, doesn’t need to be marked with candy and flowers and sappy cards because he thinks of me all the time and I feel that in my bones.
This is going to be our third year together and yesterday I heard him refer to us, all of us, as “our family” and this is the best present I could have ever asked for. Together we make happiness happen everyday. As a family, we learn to lift each other up and weather any storm.
Thank you Michael for making my life so damn wonderful. I never thought I would find this sort of love that is comfortable, warm, inspiring, and passionate. I am happy to be your Valentine today, and everyday. I love you.