To Tiel on Valentine’s Day
It occurred to me recently that the only words I write to you are the ones scribbled on Post-It notes and dashed off in emails. They’re the words of necessity: reminders about our schedules, requests for more almond milk, promises to run the dishwasher. We’re fortunate to have these necessities, but our life together is more than a well-functioning household. I would still love you if you didn’t start the dishwasher, and I know you’d still love me if I forgot the almond milk. I don’t step back and recognize that often enough.
While I was contemplating these everyday notes, I was forced to recall the last time that I put pen to paper with the intention of sharing everything inside me with you. It was a winter not unlike the one we’re having now with snow upon ice upon snow. The cold was unforgiving but it was nothing compared to my regret. It wasn’t one precise form of regret but every form. I agonized over every moment of those early days we shared together when I adored you—and it was so much more than adoration, it was love—and couldn’t find the words to tell you. The agony was only compounded by the belief I’d never see you again, never get an opportunity to make it right.
I didn’t intend to wander down that melancholy path but it reminded me of all the things you’ve given me. Your forgiveness, your love, your warmth, your heart. Our future, our family, our son. My desire to be the man worthy of all those things. It also reminded me that you, my sweet Tiel, deserve far more than the usual slate of Valentine’s Day candy, flowers, and lingerie. You deserve my words, my time, my attention.
Unfortunately, these words are now devolving into those of necessity—the ones I’d set out to avoid—but I promise this request will be worth it. You need to pack an overnight bag with attire appropriate for two evenings at the theater, some fine dining, and panties approved for ripping. We’re going to New York City for a long weekend, and before you tell me you don’t want to be away from the baby for that long, know that I’ve booked a room for him and Ellie, too.
I intend to spend four days spoiling you, worshipping you, and defiling you. Pack accordingly, Sunshine.
All my love,