He loves me. He loves me. He loves me.
I do know this. I have always known this, and he does not feel he needs to bring me flowers to prove it. So I happily whine that I will never get flowers, and he won’t bother with celebrating Valentines Day, and that he will get me flowers when he sees fit, when he wants to. Which didn’t happen all year, and that’s ok. He’s not a flowers-kind-of-guy. And I love him. Completely. Flowers or not. I openly joke about needing gold, which I know will never come, but it’s ok. It’s fun. And I don’t need it.
But when I get home from work and he’s got flowers, chocolate AND a card. Oh boy.
That’s some brownie point collection!