There is the love!

So there's still love plenty of love between my blog and me. The fact that we weren't on speaking terms for a few weeks has more to do with my own inability to get the thoughts swirling through my head on to the screen. And just to clear things up, it didn't help that blog posts usually come to me while I'm showering or driving my car. By the time I'd get out of the shower or my car there was usually either a day to begin or end, and little time or energy for writing down those thoughts, which seemed far less awesome and deep out in the real world anyway.

But, all of that is behind us now, and my blog and I are back to the way we've always been: sarcastic, cynical, but definitely in love. And there probably isn't a better day to rekindle that love than on Valentine's Day. Coincidence? Of course not.

Personally I'm still not entirely sure what I think about Valentine's Day. As the girl who never ever ever had a boyfriend around Valentine's Day, and so who never ever ever had anything to show her friends on that dreaded day, I grew up firmly believing that Valentine's Day was an absolutely ridiculous financial exploitation of human relationships. Yes, I had graduate school written all over at a very early age. Secretly, of course, I wanted nothing more than a card and some flowers, so everyone would know that although I too was definitely normal, and just like everyone else. My whole Valentine's complex wasn't helped by the fact that  once I made it to college, and actually did have a semi-significant other who lasted through Christmas, I broke up right before Valentine's Day. Poor guy.

Anyway, then came husband-dear. As you may have surmised from last year's Valentine's Day's post, husband-dear was a little skittish when we met. OK, he was a lot skittish. And you know what, most of the time, it didn't bother me too much. He had a life, I had a life (well, I was busy running surveys and coming up with even more complicated methods of analysis), and I figured he would come around eventually. Except on our first Valentine's Day together. Suddenly, him being my boyfriend really mattered. Really mattered.  However, being the complete newbies at this whole intercultural, blended family thing that we were, neither one of us said a word about that day. And this turned out to be a big. Deal. Especially if one of you expects a card with some sort of declaration of at least serious liking on there, and the other believes that any show of love on Valentine's Day would indicate a desire to get married the next week and start making babies (or something. I'm not sure what husband-dear was thinking, but that's my closest guess).

You can guess what happened: I got husband-dear a card, while he, in return, got me nothing. I would love to tell you that the fallout was not pretty, but there really was little fallout. Sure, I cried on friends' shoulders about how this my first Valentine's Day with a boyfriend, and I still hadn't gotten anything, but that was about it. I believe the only thing I said to him was something about how it would have been nice if he had gotten me a card, and that was it. I figured, in a ruthlessly logical way, that since I hadn't communicated my expectations to him, I shouldn't have had any to begin with. I'm telling you, running analyses for months on end does things to your mind.

I never told husband-dear about how hurt I had been by that first Valentine's Day until the next year, right before our second Valentine's Day, and right after we'd gotten married*. I'm not sure what I said, but something about how that had been the first Valentine's Day on which I had a boyfriend, and how I had so been hoping to finally get something. I remember I said it in passing, in the checkout line at the commissary, without really meaning anything by it (I'm still up to my eyeballs in data analysis and write-ups at this point). Husband-dear, however, almost cried. In the checkout line. While wearing his uniform**. He had had no idea, and felt horrible.

But he made up for that lost Valentine that year, and all the year's after. I have come into my office to find my desk covered with chocolate kisses. I have gotten stuffed animals, jewelry, flowers, candies, coloring books and crayons when it's been a stressful year (I like to color when I need to unwind - don't judge), and the sweetest cards you can imagine. I've come home to a house filled with candles and the song we danced to at our wedding (the "real" one) playing on the stereo, to a three-course meal complete with a fully decorated table and a chocolate martini, and tiramisu in the oven. We may not have had a "first" Valentine, but the ones since have been the best.

Happy Valentine's Day everyone - show everyone where the love is!



*Technically, we got married twice. Our legal wedding was months before our "real" wedding, to ensure some military stuff would be taken care of. The one in January is our legal wedding, and the one husband-dear claims we shouldn't celebrate. But every year, he asks me if we are, just be on the safe side. Yes, that first Valentine's still haunts him today.

**And he is going to kill me for telling you this.