Today is Valentine’s Day. Frankly, I think it should be a who cares? day, but somehow, I do care. Terribly.
I am sucked back to a time and place where I wore a checked school uniform and sat, waiting, hoping, maybe this year my luck would change, and one of the boys noticed me. Thought of me. Sent me a rose.
It was just a rose, but somehow its absence mattered. In my little first world mind, it was the biggest problem in the universe. I couldn’t get a boyfriend. No-one loves me. Wah.
It didn’t help that I was shy with boys. Or that I went to a girl’s boarding school between the ages of 12-17. After school, there were boys around, but somehow, the roses went to everyone but me.
I feel sick thinking about how much time I spent wishing I had a boyfriend.
Who cares day. I cared, so much.
My first love was pretty much unrequited. He played the drums and we sat on the bonnet of his car, talking about writing, and art. After a brief fling, we hung out as friends over a summer, until I couldn’t bear it any longer, and moved to Melbourne. Thankfully, my self-respect saved me. I had a few more hopeless romances. I didn’t understand that my innocent, open love for another person could be so easily rejected.
But love is like that.
Then he came along. Tall, gregorious, funny, smart. At first I was skeptical, and arranged my brother’s swag for him to sleep on in the living room. I was still skeptical when he swept me under his long arm – come here, come here. He told me that he had no intentions of sleeping on the swag, but it was cute that I thought he might.
I loved straight away that he wasn’t intimidated by me. I loved that I couldn’t offend him. I loved that I knew he liked me, and I didn’t need to spend a million years guessing. I loved that after a week, he told me he loved me, and that after three, he intimated that he might move to Australia for me. It wasn’t weird. It was simple and practical. As it was meant to be.
We got married quickly, and there was a little friction surrounding our marriage. But we – he and me – we were fine. Our vows, like our relationship, were simple. I support you to grow as you need to grow.
Since having children, we have had the occasional argument. I’ve been bitchy and impatient. He occasionally has enough of it. But on the whole, we are still cruising along.
Here’s why he’s my man, and why I would nominate him for lover of the year:
He’s strong, in mind and body.
He’s the smartest person I know.
And the wisest.
He has excellent legs.
I’ve never known anyone to be as kind to children as he.
He’s (usually) unflappable.
He’s hilarious. I think he makes me laugh every day.
He loves watching HBO series as much as me.
He loves the same foods as me (except for liver. Yuk. I do not love liver.)
He gives me a legitimate excuse to live in Europe at some point in my life.
He sees opportunities, constantly.
He’s enthusiastic, constantly.
He rarely has a down day.
He has encouraged me to write – for a living, and for fun.
He washes up every night, so I can blog and write children’s stories.
He hangs out the washing. And brings it in.
He also cooks most nights.
He tells me I’m beautiful several times a day.
He loves my new motherly curves.
He doesn’t mind that we don’t have sex much at the moment.
He never makes me feel bad about myself.
In fact, since we’ve been together, I have felt great about the person I am.
I haven’t felt depressed once, since we met.
When I feel shitty, he knows exactly the right thing to say.
True to our vows, we have encouraged each other to grow, and as corny as it sounds, we have definitely grown together.
People tell us we look similar. I know we think similarly. And I am pretty sure, when we are old, he will be my doppelgänger, or I his. Two old people, bent in the same direction.
Do you do Valentine’s Day? Have you got a Valentine? Will you link your nomination for Lover of the Year below and tell us why you love them so?
They love us, support us, and if we are lucky, they buy us roses. Feel free to link your Valentine Day post here, and spread the commenting love. Please include a link back to Heart Mama.
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