My funny Valentine

14 Feb

Author: Bagande

It’s almost Valentine’s Day. My first Valentine’s Day as a wife. It’s a day that I used to dread. I hated going to work and seeing all of the women, the lucky ones, who were in love and getting beautiful bouquets or planning special dates. I always used to plan my clothing choices days in advance; and I saved my black for that day. There is nothing like a day that served just to rub in my face how alone I really was. I hated it.

Two years ago, just before Valentine’s Day, this man fell into my life. That’s not really accurate. I had known him for a couple of years, but I remember looking up on that day, and seeing his face like I was seeing him for the first time. I was having a rough day that day and he put his arm around me, in a friendly gesture, to comfort me. I laid my head over on his shoulder and I was home.

Now, I don’t hate Valentine’s Day. I look forward to it. I’m in love and I don’t mind going to work and thinking about my special date. I plan my clothing choices just like every other day; only I make certain I wear something happy and fun. There is nothing like a day meant just for celebrating my love for my husband. I love it.

So, today, I am going to do just that. I am going to celebrate my love for my husband. Here is a glimpse into the man who stole my heart, and made Valentine’s Day something to look forward to.

My funny valentine:

He really is funny. He can make me laugh when few others can. He will do the most ridiculous things to bring me out of a bad day. He has a pretty wide array of jokes; some clean, some not so much. He laughs at my stupidity and, most of the time, he appreciates my sense of humor. He laughs at himself, which is one of his best qualities.

He watches movies, just because I want to. Some of them he has realized he liked. Some of them he hated. And some of them, we haven’t made it to yet, but we will. Bridesmaids, Les Miserables, Step Up, Pitch Perfect, you name it. If I really want to see it, we do. And, mostly, he doesn’t complain about it.

He supports my habits. Chai tea, shoes, books, diamonds and sapphires. Some of my favorite things. And things that he always makes sure I have. Whether he is going out and surprising me with them, or giving me a push to treat myself. He always makes sure that I am spoiled with the things I love.

He plays. On any given day, if you walk into our house, you will see it. He plays video games and super heroes. He plays Barbies and princesses. He plays basketball and board games. He chases our kiddos, and sometimes me, around the house until they are all too tired to run anymore. He pushes swings and goes down slides. He is so involved in the lives of our children; the serious ones and the ones from which their happy memories will be built.

He holds on to me. He sits on the couch with his arm around me. He touches my back when I walk through a door ahead of him. He holds my hand in the car. He wraps his arms around me when I need to cry.

He takes care of me. He recognizes that I can take care of myself; and that I can do it pretty efficiently. But, he enjoys taking care of me anyway. He does things just so I don’t have to. He brings home dinner, sometimes, so I can take the night off. He carries the heavy groceries in from the car. He kills the spiders and takes out the trash. But, he lets me be independent and never implies that I can’t do anything. He gives me the perfect blend of the two.

He catches my eye. Sometimes, when he’s standing across a room from me, I’ll look over and catch him looking at me. And he’ll smile or wink. And this feeling I can’t explain courses through me. It makes me warm inside. It gives me goosebumps and those butterflies in my stomach. It reminds me of being a nervous, shy teenage girl again, when the boy I liked smiled my way.

He loves me. He loves me in a way that no one ever has. He loves me in a way that makes it impossible for me to stop fighting for him. He loves me in a way that makes it worth it, even when it’s hard. He loves me in a way that defies logic and rational thinking. He loves me in a way that is not always like I imagined it would be, but that’s ok. It’s unexplainable. It’s just… right.

No relationship, no marriage, no person is perfect. We aren’t either. But, we are committed, determined, loyal. We are in this together. We fight with each other, but mostly, we fight for each other. That man is my hero and I am his biggest fan.

And that is why I don’t hate Valentine’s Day.

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One Response to “My funny Valentine”

  1. faithsmomma February 14, 2013 at 1:10 am #

    Love it 😉

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