Last year, my husband experienced Valentine’s Day for the first time on this side of a relationship as he had always been single before then. He tried to warn me in the months before the holiday that he had never celebrated Valentine’s Day, he didn’t see the point of it and he did not want to celebrate. I thought I could utilize the skills I learned in premarital counseling and compromise by purchasing cards for each other instead of gifts. It seemed like such a good idea.
When Valentine’s Day arrived, we stayed in. It snowed so we played hooky from work. We made breakfast together. We lounged in bed. We had dinner together and shared a bottle of wine. Then it was time for the card exchange.
My dear sweet husband bought me a card with a dead rat on it. Nothing says romance like a rodent. And since I was drunk, I cried. I questioned whether or not we should get married. I got so worked up that Brian ruined an upcoming surprise to try to make me happier. I still cried about the dead rat.
We may have ended the evening by sleeping in separate rooms.
This year, I am not celebrating Valentine’s Day.
Let’s be honest for a moment: I know I am an individual with high expectations. I set these expectations for myself, for others and for inanimate objects. My husband does not have high expectations for anything. He goes with the flow and rolls with the punches. Valentine’s Day is not a declaration of our love but a clash of our differences.
I didn’t buy a card for Brian this year. Instead I found red boxers with white hearts and I left it at that. I know he bought something for me this year but that’s only because he made a mistake with the check book and I had to go back and fix the math.
But that’s okay. By not celebrating Valentine’s Day, I lowered my expectations and I can be happy with whatever he chooses to give to me.
After all, it is just another day and ten years from now, it won’t matter. One day is just a drop in the bucket when you have the rest of your lives together.
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