My Dearest Xxxxxxxx,
I have loved you equally on any other day, some days, a little more. Today, I’m reminded of you constantly. The red roses, the boxes of chocolates, the overwhelmed woman by the staircase. I look at her, as she wipes the smudges of mascara from her cheek.
Valentines day. I have always looked forward to it. For me, it was never about the overpriced flowers, the chocolates, the expensive dinner dates. It has always been about the hope I’ve gained from it. The hope that I would have found someone to share that day with. The hope of meeting You.
I hoped that we could have been the couple that shared a kiss at the traffic light. I hoped that we could have walked, down the cold empty streets, hand in hand, with only the orange of the streetlights to guide us. I hoped I could have whispered into your ears, watch you break into a smile, as I told you that I loved you.
Darling, what I described was not Valentines day. I described my every waking moment with you. Now and always.
Happy Valentines Day.