Wednesday, February 15, 2012


Every once in a while you need a magic, fall-in-love-all-over-again night. Like on Valentine's...when you put on fancy shoes, a little extra make up, and go out. Dinner and a movie, chocolate and wine, and flirting.

And I had mentioned, a few days previous, that it was time for a little romance. And I may have vaguely mapped out what "romance" looked like, just so there wouldn't be any confusion. And he did really well, because, well, as I pictured it, romance did look a lot like this:

But I was thinking back over the week - and I wonder how many times I want to trade displays of affection for love? Does it count as real love if I'm not dressed up? If it doesn't come in something shiny? Or look like a scene from a Nicholas Sparks book?

I have always been a big fan of Valentine's Day - single or not. It always meant steak and shrimp at my parents' house, and now it is just another day set aside to celebrate the fun aspects of love with the person I love the most. (And honestly, I'm really partial to lace, which is totally appropriate in all forms on V-day.) 

But I really wouldn't trade all of the in-and-out actions of our week that display our love for each other. Paul taking me to pick up a borrowed sewing machine in the middle of the night (right after he got off work) because I was going crazy not getting a project done. Explaining the new budget to me 7 times...until I entirely understand and am no longer worried about it. Giving up his morning off to help me clean the house. 

As important as those shiny moments are, these are the things that keep us together. This is the self sacrifice that makes a real, life lasting love. And even in those needy moments (when all I think I actually need is some grand display of affection), I wouldn't trade this for anything. This is the stuff that calls me to sacrifice myself for him, to be a better woman the stuff that makes me love him even more.  

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