#NerdsUnite: I met my husband on @PlentyOfFish (I love you, here's a house)
<editorsnote> Nerds, meet my buddy Jessica. She and I met through this loverly site, and by her reaching out to me asking if she could write for us. Really rad chickie, she provided a lot of insight into my childhood for me (something you don't get every day from someone!!) - andddddd she has quite the life story. Like did you know she moved cross country for love? ORRRR that she found out her ex cheated on her by reading it on Facebook? ANNNNDDDD she even married a guy she met off of Plenty of Fish! Yep, true story! This is life as told through her eyes, and through the keyword of the nerd. HIT IT JESSICA!!! </editorsnote>
#TalkNerdyToMeLover's @ItsJessWeaver
Tonight, I started thinking about Valentine ’s Day. I know it’s next week. I just had a conversation with my husband about it, and about what, if anything, we should do. Since the planning for Valentine ’s Day is really where the meat of the holiday really is, I thought I’d write a pre-Valentine’s Day post. So here you go…
There are three kinds of people:
The kind of people that love Valentine’s Day, the kind that hate Valentine’s Day, and the kind that pretty much think every day is Valentine’s Day, or, in other words, that sweet things to a loved one shouldn’t be limited to one day a year.
I fall into the last category. It’s probably because for 24 years my most consistent Valentine was my mom. Every year she would get us all chocolates and some other trinket; when I was 28 she sent me a white plush bear in the mail. I didn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day romantically for a lot of years, but I always had a Valentine. My mom and I have had our ups and downs. Today I actually described my childhood as being “raised by wolves”. OKAY. I might be a little dramatic. But she had my back when it came to Valentine ’s Day. And, as a result, I never hated the holiday. I have never put huge stock in it, though, because I really don’t think anyone should have to make some huge show of affection once a year. I think you should be doing that all the time, but it is nice to have a sweetheart’s day where you can celebrate your romantic love. So I am ok with V-day. It’s cool, whatever. I don’t require jewelry, but I would like something nice, like flowers or chocolate. At least a card. I am going to get my husband a card. The thing is, I am basically ruining Valentine ’s Day for him forever, because this year, there is no way he can top my lover’s gift: I am buying him a damn house.
It’s true; we close on our house next week, and he keeps going on and on about how I am buying him a house, getting him all set up living the life of a kept man. It wouldn’t have to be that way, except that the mortgage company wouldn’t consider him for the loan because he spent September through November last year on unemployment. He doesn’t have continuous paystubs. When I asked about the loan, they just offered to see what I qualified for all on my own, and voila—I am going to own a house next week. Just like that. A Valentine to end all Valentines. I love you, here’s a house. It has an office for you to play SWTOR.
Of course, the truth is, everything I own he basically also owns. His paycheck is going to help pay the mortgage, and a million other little things. He knows that, but it makes him feel loved that I would go through all this hassle to get us a house, and I like that it makes him feel loved. Sometimes I worry that I do not do enough to show him that, especially when it seems like every time I turn around he’s doing something kind and wonderful I know I don’t deserve—and that’s all year long, not just on Love’s Big Day. Some people get lucky. I know I did. I’m not playing around—I get that I need to not take this man for granted. He talks about me setting him up for life, but it is so the other way around. I am so not fit for human interaction sometimes, and he just takes it in stride, like it’s no big deal that I can’t open any of the jars in our house, or that I refuse to use my own desk and instead camp out in his office to do my homework, sometimes asking him to turn down his game as if he’s the one violating my space, instead of the other way around. Or how I won’t eat mushrooms, or mayonnaise, and will absolutely insist on whole wheat everything—pancakes, pasta, bread, cereal, the whole nine yards. I made him go to the doctor for the first time in a decade, where he had to get his nuts fondled by a strangely detached female PA. I made him stop eating Oreos and milk for dinner. I keep asking for foot rubs when I know he’s weirded out by feet. I talk ENDLESSLY. Screw Valentine’s day; he deserves his own holiday.
So here’s to Tim, and to luck, and to second chances, and to gestures of love, big and small. Whether you’re getting married, buying a house, looking for the perfect flowers or trying to find a card for your most consistent valentine, your mom…don’t forget that it’s the love behind it that we’re celebrating, not the gifts, or the exclusive reservations at the fancy restaurant, or the sparkly necklace from Kay Jewelers. It’s love—the kind that likes the way you look when you roll out of bed in the morning, and sticks around to stand up for you when you’ve made a complete fool out of yourself in public. Without love like that, Valentine ’s Day is just another opportunity to stuff your face with chocolate.
#kthxbye
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