Valentine's Day was this weekend. We ate cake (okay, I ate cake) in a square in Uruguay and watched elderly couples dance the tango. We talked about relationship things, about hard reality and about happy dreams.
But we didn't do anything particularly mushy gushy. We didn't exchange cards (where would I even buy one? And where would we put them afterwards?) or flowers (see parenthetical re: cards).
So, Jeff, today's blog post is a (late) Valentine's love letter about why it's you.
Because every hard conversation turns into a moment of bonding.
Because of your toothy grin.
Because I told you I was divorced on date two, and you replied "okay... so is my best friend's girlfriend" and were utterly unfazed.
Because you don't yell.
Because of the silly noises you make.
Because your hangry is only ever temporary.
Because you order for me when we're out with my friends so I don't have to distract myself from conversation to read the menu.
Because your pain breaks my heart.
Because my pain breaks yours.
Because of our secret emoji language 🎈🐭🐐🌋.
Because you don't mind that Chloe knows the meaning of 🎈🐭🐐🌋.
Because logic rules your mind.
Because you're brilliant, but will never flaunt it.
Because I knew you'd say yes to Remote Year, even before I sent you the link.
Because you'd never ask me to live somewhere I'd hate.
Because you're a goof monster.
Because your weird matches my weird.
Because you appreciate the little wonders.
Because you're fair.
Because you put kindness first.
Because of ten million more reasons, some of which I haven't yet discovered.
Because it just is, it's just you.