I wrote this short story two years ago, when I was still single. Half a year later I found true love again. This is a reminder that times aren’t always what we hope them to be, but like Phil Collins sang: “You can’t hurry love, you’ll just have to wait”.
Today I wanted to surprise you. I know it’s cliché to do this on Valentine’s Day, but I’m a hopeless romantic, and I like to show it. Just before you went to sleep last night, I turned off your alarm. I had gone out of my way to ensure that you had the day off from work. I contacted your manager and told her I had a surprise in the works for you. I’m glad she allowed you a day off, because work had been busy lately and apparently there were others who wanted a day off on Valentine’s Day. This idea comforted me somehow. I wasn’t the only one who was going to give in to this commercially driven invention of a holiday.
I got up early to make you breakfast. Boiled some eggs, baked some croissants. Fresh orange juice. The works. Your reaction when I woke you up was golden. Of course it was well past time to get up for work. Your smile when I told you I managed to get you the day off from work was one I’ll never forget. We enjoyed breakfast, basking in the sunlight and listening to some easy tunes from a playlist I created for this moment. I had every detail worked out. It was perfection, like the ones you see in romantic movies.
We drove up to the beach and had a long stroll, discussing our lives, hopes and dreams. We sat by the beach house and had a small lunch. Then I took you to a nearby museum we had always wanted to visit, but never did for some reason. After the museum, we had a couple of drinks at a small café and then I took you out for dinner. I had made reservations at that Japanese restaurant you always tell me about. The one where they make your food at the table. It was possibly the best food I ever had.
When we finally made it back home we were too exhausted for anything else. We went to bed and you fell asleep in my arms. When you were lying there, and I was holding you I just couldn’t help but shake that one thought. You’re perfect in every conceivable way. It’s just too bad you’re from another nation. My imagination.