Love letter # 142

Most years I scoff at the idea of Valentine’s Day. It’s such an obvious Hallmark occasion, a corporate concoction designed to give us something to buy during the slowest part of the retail calendar. And all that flowers and candlelit dinner shit. It’s so goddam suburban. Puke.

I know you know what I mean – which is why I can imagine your shock at receiving this. Because this year I have decided to get over my easy cynicism and to use the day as an excuse to say what I do not say often enough: that I love you, that you bring such incredible beauty into my life, and that when we’re together I feel safe.

Indeed, maybe we’re too smart for our good far too often. We think we’re so cool, so indestructible – but in the chill of the night we are all liable to the frights that darkness permits. Magnifies. For this is when we feel most alone and turn to our loved ones for reassurance. For anchor. And this is when I find you – always my light, always my warm harbour.

So this Valentine’s I am promising to acknowledge this fact every day – and not to need the external prompting of dead saints to remind me that I am fortunate indeed to have you near. Lucky to have you love me. Downright honoured that you let me love you back.

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