A Valentine's Letter to the One I Love

Dear Harold,

It's Valentine's Day today.  As I write this you are five hours away at a work conference and I am sitting on the couch, wrapped in 3 blankets with a box of kleenex beside me and one large fuzzy dog and two small fuzzy dogs plastered on my shivering, freezing body.  I have the plague you see.  Or possibly just a really bad cold.  Either way, I am pretty sure I am dying as my numerous texts to you have indicated.

I have a red and raw nose, my eyes are bloodshot, and when I speak I sound like an unholy cross of Fozzie Bear and Darth Vadar.  Earlier today I sneezed so hard that I peed my pants a little.  I keep nodding off on the couch (possibly due to the large amount of cold medicine I have ingested) and every time I do, Dexter the Mutant Chihuahua sticks his tongue up my nose.  I wake up snorting and sputtering and coughing and wondering why the dog is suddenly so obsessed with my snot.  Is it superhuman snot do you think?  Has my plague/cold given me super powers that the dog can sense and is trying to steal?  Also, isn't love grand?

We've been married 8 years now (Or 7?  No, I'm pretty sure it's 8.  Or it could be 7... you know what? I'm just gonna call it 8) and this is the first Valentine's Day we've been apart.  Not that it matters all that much - you've pretty much made your peace with the fact that you have married the least romantic woman in the entire world. 

Do you remember our first Valentine's Day?  I don't remember how long we had been dating but we had been friends for years so I remember it felt natural and right.  You made a reservation at one of my favourite restaurants, and I'm pretty sure what you remember most about that dinner is the gaping look of horror on my face when they brought out your lobster dinner and it was the ENTIRE lobster...face and all.  Or perhaps what you remember is when you told me to pick a movie at the theatre after dinner and I chose "Monster", a movie about a female serial killer.  Romantic yeah?

You'll be coming home in two days but as I'll most likely be dead from the plague by then, I thought I would tell you some of the reasons why I love you and how happy you have made me the last 8 (7?) years.

I love you because you're kind and thoughtful and make really good French toast.  I love you because of how fiercely you love your children.  I love you because when your father was dying, you spent every moment you could with him, encouraging him, listening to him, and loving him.  I love you because you love and respect your mom.

I love you because you love and respect my mom.  I love you because you talk to my dad about Nascar.  I love you because you love our pets as much as I do.  I love you because you always remember your sibling's birthdays and call them.  I love you because you love to cook and you're good at it.  I love you because it doesn't bother you that I can never remember how long we've been married.

I love your unending desire to learn new things, your interest in photography, your willingness to parallel park the car for me, your sarcastic sense of humour, you uncanny ability to do long division in your head, and your obsession with the Food Network.

I love that you call me the Girl, that you can make me laugh, that you care about my friends, that you occasionally become weepy over inspiring stories of athletes who have beaten the odds.  I love that you put up with my weird obsession with zombies and that you don't care if I haven't shaved my legs for weeks.

I love that you don't mind that I put our conversations on the internet for the world to see.  I love that my Asshole Cat can practically scratch your face off in the middle of the night and you just shrug and say, "He's just being a cat."

I love you because when I am sad you cheer me up.  I love you because you like to dance.  I love you because you want to travel and meet new and different people.  I love you because you went to every single stupid Twilight movie with me and didn't complain once.  I love you because you make me coffee in the mornings.  I love you because you take the garbage out.  I love you because you'll play Monopoly with me.  I love you because you believe in me, think I'm funny, and call me on my bullshit.

And I love you because even when I have the plague and look like this:

You still think I'm beautiful.

Happy Valentine's Day honey.

Love K.