Happy Valentine's Day



I liked the way that you shared stories, the dramatic voice that you’d adopt. Boom! Smash! You’d string a long strand of words together and then you’d pause. I’d wait for it, knowing that something big was going to come. I liked those moments, where we'd both be happy, me hanging onto the edge of the seat waiting for what came next and you, pacing yourself, revealing things, little by little. 

You had your sad days and I listened. Sometimes you drone on and on, and I listened. You had a bad day and I had an okay day. Sometimes, you’d mope and rant. On other days, you’d find yourself, your amazing ability to express yourself and we’d both cry together, even if I wasn’t sad when your started your story. I liked that part of you, your ability to influence my feelings.

It was also what I didn’t like about you, your charisma. You had that ability to make people like you a certain part of you and overlook everything else. I was blinded by it ,too sometimes. I'd get so annoyed by it. On other days, I was fine. We were fine. 

I liked the way you dressed sometimes. You’d look really, really good on some days and I’d tell you. On other days, I was confused by your ability to dress incredibly well and your ability to dress incredibly off. I kept those days to myself. After all, it’s unpleasant to hear “What are you wearing?” so early in the morning. (It’s still incredibly unpleasant to hear that phrase later in the day.)  It’s what’s inside that counts.

Those are the tiny things that sometimes annoy me. What am I doing, telling them to you at all? 

You're amazing. What a cliche statement. I learned from you to stay away from cliches but here I am pulling them out. 

So here I go, HappyValentine’sDay. I’ve never been particularly good at saying that phrase to others. Ilovebooks.

What'd you think I was going to say?





Original Photo: National Garden Month
Edits: me


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