warm day
The secret to having a happy Valentine’s Day is to back the frick off the other person because after you’re twenty, Valentine’s Day is really only a holiday for fat chicks who want a reason to get mad and moms and dads who get those killer cute construction paper things with inappropriate thoughts written on in glitter glue. LOVE those.
My beloved one has the sense to unobserve such events with me, which is fun because then I am free to think what I want to think and in my opinion the best love affairs are between my imagination and yours. Except, you know, when we then get real.
I’m slightly worried that this is my favorite relationship ever and that its main parts are thousands of miles of distance and (deleted), but Jesus, I’ve been living with myself for how many years? So I’m not all that surprised. I’m just super glad I have a partner in these particular crimes. Love, love, love. Thinkin’ about love. Much love, many miles, so many years. He said to me on my birthday, “look back and see how many years we’ve been together. Now look forward, and there’s the same. And then more.” This was by way of reminding me of the lifelong commitment I had somehow completely blanked on and forgotten all about.
Sometimes it worries me that my relationship role models are, like, Fleetwood Mac.
I got your love song right here, buddy.
