This is Valentine’s Day in the U.S. (so it probably bleeds elsewhere), and this one has a lot of firsts for me.
This is my first Valentine’s Day as a married woman.
This is my only pregnant Valentine’s day.
And this has put me in a reflective mood.
We met when I was 14, he was 15. We were in marching band together in high school, and we were good friends. He was way out of my league – a varsity athlete and honor’s student – but we made each other laugh. He graduated, went his way, I graduated and went mine.
13 years later, he was living in Detroit doing R&D for GM. He found me on a classmates website, and we started emailing, then talking on the phone. This was in ’08, right before GM went bankrupt, but he could see the handwriting on the wall and was preparing to go elsewhere. He had a job offer in Phoenix and one in St. Louis, and he took the one in St. Louis, even though we weren’t in a relationship yet. He just had a feeling about us.
The night we did decide to be together (it took a little while for me), we were out at a cigar bar. He was wearing this green button down shirt, kind of like an army green, but not a thick fabric, and he looked so good in it. I’m wearing it right now, thinking about that night.
Right now, Cohiba is still out at the ski “resort” where he has taken a second job as a ski instructor (so he can ski as much as he wants without paying the $500 season pass) and has been working today. But he’s coming home tonight for us to have a night together, and it’s going to start by me making some chai for him; I’m even waiting until he comes home to make it. He won’t have to reheat it for himself. This is a sure sign that I love you, as I once wrote before.
I’m a very blessed woman tonight, and ain’t love grand?