But not like REAL bloody, gooey hearts stuffed with chocolate. And not real looking hearts stuffed full of chocolate.
*though admit it, that sounds cool*
Today is a day full of these odd shaped things that look nothing like hearts to be full of chocolate. And flowers. Because it’s more romantic to pay a ton on flowers out of season. That’s true love, yo. And all of the other traps and frivolities that prove how much you love the person you are sending them to.
If you aren’t picking up on my subtleties, John and I don’t really do Valentine’s Day. Mainly because we are cheap and broke. Also because John’s grandparents taught him that you should prove how much you love and respect your partner everyday, not just one single day that the rest of the world gives you the OK to be a sap on. His grandfather always told him it was better to go all out on days for no reason, other than something that day made you remember just how much you love and respect that person.
I won’t lie, the first few years this sort of bugged me. I was like “Dude! Your grandfather ruined the most romantic, loving day of the year! Everyone else gets all this special treatment, and special gifts, and goes and does special things! I’m lucky to get a dang card!!” It didn’t matter that I am not exactly a romantic, card wanting, flower loving, chocolate eating kind of female. It didn’t matter that I actually don’t even like most chocolate. I wanted my something special just like how everyone else around me was getting their something special. It was my due as his girlfriend and then wife. Everyone and everything said so. I was told over and over that if he really loved me he would get me all of these special things to prove it on Valentine’s Day.
But after a while I stopped and thought about it, and I was forced to stop and ask myself why I felt I needed him to give me things and show me how special I am on just one day.
John would show me in little ways everyday how much he loves me. Did I really need him to go all out one day a year to prove his love? Was I not confident in his love?
It’s true that he’s not the most openly romantic and lovey-dovey type of guy. But I’m not those things either. We’re more of the silly, goofy, lovey type of people and we’re a pretty dang good match. I might be more outgoing than him, and he might be slightly more serious than I am, but we balance each other pretty well. I never stop and question if he still loves me. He quite often does just what his grandfather said to do. He comes home from work and he has some odd random special thing for me. Sometimes just because, there is no reason. Sometimes because I mention I felt bad, or that the kids were difficult. Sometimes because he’s proud of something I did. Sometimes to thank me for something I did.
And do you know what else? The dude still writes me notes. Silly notes. Love notes. Apology notes. He even picked up a special pad of note paper a few years back that has cute silly little sentiments and doodles on it. He goes through it and picks out which one goes with what he wants to say, he actually puts some thought into these silly little notes that he leaves me. And they aren’t always somewhere noticeable. Sometimes I don’t find the notes until a day or two later. Oh and we can’t forget the texts. He’ll text or call throughout the day for no reason at all. We’ve been together almost eleven years, married for almost 8, and he still sends me random texts just to say “I love you.”
He still kisses me goodnight every night. He still puts up with the fact that I don’t fold clothes until I can no longer pile them in the corner of the room. He still accepts my refusal to make beds. It doesn’t matter how busy his day, or everything he has to do after getting home – he still helps me tuck the kids into bed. He acts out corny love songs and scenes with me. He goes out of his way to make Christmas and our anniversary and my birthday special for me, even though he absolutely insists that I shouldn’t do anything for him because we can’t afford it. He still organizes and plans dates to surprise me. He makes me get off the computer or Kindle long enough to sit through the times that we plan during the week to set aside for just us.
He does all of these things and more. So WHY should I expect him to go nuts one day each year for a holiday that everyone else says is important? What significance does it have for us? It might have taken me a few years to get here, but I am so glad that his grandfather taught him what he did. I’d rather take random unprompted extra love, attention, and surprises over one mass day that he feels compelled to be that way on just because society says he should.
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