Today is the day of lurve. Oooh ahhh. Valentine’s Day. The day in my previous life as a single girl that typically meant depression and consumption of much chocolate. I was usually alone, abandoned by the most recent “fling” shortly before the holiday.
I was always a hopeless romantic, dreaming of the Valentine’s Day when my Don Juan would arrive to pick me up in a horse drawn carriage to take me out for a night of passion and romance. I wished for thousands of roses and candlelit dinners and everything that “they” (whoever they are) tell you Valentine’s Day is supposed to contain.
I should have dreamed bigger. I should have been dreaming who would put me first, every single day. I should have been hoping for the safe feeling of always being taken care of. I should have imagined years of laughter and fun and tender, amazing true love. Oh, and some serious passion too.
Maybe it’s good that I didn’t dream bigger because it allowed me to be completely swept away by the man who gave me everything I was dreaming of, plus everything I should have been dreaming of and more.
Sure, I’m still a girl and a hopeless romantic who wishes my life had a little more “show” but when I really stop to think about it, you couldn’t pay me enough money or give me enough “packaged romance” to convince me that what I have isn’t the most amazing gift I’ve ever been given. I consider myself the luckiest woman alive to have the privilege to be married to Matt. He is my everything and on Valentine’s Day, I just wanted the world to know it. He is my Don Juan . . . but better.
