A Love Letter: Valentine?s Day
Valentine?s Day was never a momentous day for me.
He is not romantic in the traditional way; mine is a master of the unexpected.
Romance for him is about surprise; romance is about romance when least expected.
The post A Love Letter: Valentine’s Day appeared first on Vicki Archer.
Valentine’s Day was never a momentous day for me.
Growing up and spending my adolescence in Australia meant that as a celebratory day it wasn’t a big deal and it wasn’t marketed or observed in the same way that it is today. Like all teenage girls, with a fascination for teenage boys, I pondered that emotionally loaded question, ‘Who would be my Valentine’ but apart from the occasional blank card, February 14th came and went by uneventfully.
We don’t really celebrate the day.
He is not romantic in the traditional way; mine is a master of the unexpected. Romance for him is about surprise; romance is about romance when least expected. Once upon a time, he left on my bedside table the Penguin classic, First Love by Ivan Turgenev, a short tale of a young man’s awakening to the complex nature of love. When I asked him what made him think of this book, he smiled in his quiet way and told me that he was always thinking of me.
A few words spoken can mean so much more than the grand gesture.
He is Australian, like me, and was not brought up to celebrate love on a given day; over time he has learned that Valentine’s Day is an ...
He is not romantic in the traditional way; mine is a master of the unexpected.
Romance for him is about surprise; romance is about romance when least expected.
The post A Love Letter: Valentine’s Day appeared first on Vicki Archer.
Valentine’s Day was never a momentous day for me.
Growing up and spending my adolescence in Australia meant that as a celebratory day it wasn’t a big deal and it wasn’t marketed or observed in the same way that it is today. Like all teenage girls, with a fascination for teenage boys, I pondered that emotionally loaded question, ‘Who would be my Valentine’ but apart from the occasional blank card, February 14th came and went by uneventfully.
We don’t really celebrate the day.
He is not romantic in the traditional way; mine is a master of the unexpected. Romance for him is about surprise; romance is about romance when least expected. Once upon a time, he left on my bedside table the Penguin classic, First Love by Ivan Turgenev, a short tale of a young man’s awakening to the complex nature of love. When I asked him what made him think of this book, he smiled in his quiet way and told me that he was always thinking of me.
A few words spoken can mean so much more than the grand gesture.
He is Australian, like me, and was not brought up to celebrate love on a given day; over time he has learned that Valentine’s Day is an ...
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