I think it was last year that my husband and I hit our tipping point – that point in time where we made the transition from being without each other for most of our lives, to having been together for more than half of our lives.
We have now spent more years together than we spent with the nuclear families we were born into.
During that time we have put forth every Valentine’s Day effort from oh-shit-I-forgot to nights out in the honeymoon suite with roses and champagne.
But it wasn’t until this year that I think we finally got it right. This year our gifts truly came from the heart, because if nothing else, not only do we love each other, we know each other.
I’m nerdy, with an artistic streak, and I truly believe the kitchen is the heart of the home. That compelled me to rip apart my kitchen the day after we moved in, replacing the white walls with rough stucco that I painted bright orange. I loved it. I still do. But the table and the curtains just don’t belong. They are not aesthetically pleasing to me. They need to be brighter, more inviting.
My husband is also nerdy, with a similar, albeit darker artistic streak. And he is a people person. He is still searching for his place – he has toyed with a number of career choices, music engineering, animation, sculpture and more. But nothing ever feels right enough to launch him into action. It is hard to combine art and constant interaction with new people.
This year, there are no hearts, no flowers, no candy. He’s on his way right now to pick up a gorgeous blue antique table for my kitchen, and I’m waiting on a package from Vegas for him – a tattoo kit.
This year our gifts are what Valentine’s Day is about – one heart speaking to another.