On my first Valentine's Day as one half of an awesome couple, my now-husband--who at the time was 17--sang me a song he'd written for me in front of our entire school cafeteria. The day didn't really matter, but it was a pretty convenient excuse to do the sweetest thing ever. Fast forward to 2009, when Rob proposed to me in our living room after singing me a song.
Despite all of these things, I don't have any strong feelings about Valentine's Day one way or the other as a holiday. Rob and I look at it mostly as an excuse to go out to eat, to cuddle extra tight, and to just take a moment to appreciate our love for one another.
This year, I got a tattoo (as previously mentioned) and Rob did a little bit of packing. We're going to eat some turkey-feta-onion-spinach burgers on gluten-free bread and snuggle and watch Inkmasters...basically the same thing we do every day. But part of me still enjoys the pink shit at Walmart and the endless Facebook statuses (except the ones from people talking about how much better they are than Valentine's Day), if you take it for what it is.
I leave you with my new favorite picture of Robbie and I. If you're wondering why it's kind of grainy, this is actually a cell phone photo of a film photo. Don't judge.
