This Valentine’s Day, I wanted to write something about keeping the romance alive in your marriage, or maybe about how I wish I could be cute and crafty like all those folks on Pinterest and amaze my family with heart shaped soaps or a waffle made to look like a real live Cupid. But when I sat down to write, this letter to my husband came out instead.
I almost didn’t meet you.
I came so close to settling for someone else, even though that someone else spent most of his time making me feel like I was the gum on the bottom of his shoe and the rest of it flirting with airline stewardesses and drinking cranberry and vodkas while I waited for him to deplane.
Oh, what was I thinking?
Then there was the day I was running out of the house and my father confronted me with my sadness, with my poor choice in company. It took a few months, but eventually the pain of being together was worse than the thought of leaving and so I drove away and managed to stay gone.
A year later, in my away place, we met.
You know it was the back of your head that I saw first and - I know you don’t believe me - but it was at that moment I fell in love with you. It took a few dates before your kindness, your humor, your confidence convinced me this absolutely couldn’t be love.
Love couldn't possibly feel this good. This, happy?
But it can. It still does.
You make it easy to be with you. To love you.
Every single thing that’s happened to me in the last decade, is better because of you. You teach me with your tone of voice, your respect, your tenderness, your drive to do what’s right, what’s fair, no matter who is watching.
You are the best person I have ever known. And together, we have made my other two favorite persons.
You are not a hearts and flowers kind of man, but I spend every day in your presence feeling cherished, feeling lucky, feeling loved.
But for the grace of you, go I.
Happy Valentines’ Day, Sweetheart.