It is our anniversary. Or not. It does depend on how you count it. i have always been inclined to count it from the first day we met in the flesh. But that’s 7 April and also her birthday.
Ever practical, she prefers to count it from 1 April, the first day we became aware of one another’s existence. Romantic? Maybe. It does also have the advantage for her of two lots of cards, prezzies, etc.
Except today was my turn. We kissed and cuddled in the morning. She left the house wth a warning to “be on the look-out in case there is a delivery”.
And yes: there was. Flowers. Beautiful, gorgeous, romantic flowers.
I’m still smiling – and ever so slightly tearful – at the memory.
Of course i’ve been given flowers before, but…but not since things shifted…since i got promoted to being the girlier one in this relationship.
Maybe this is just soppy first time stuff. I don’t think i ever realised how good, how happy something as simple as flowers could make you feel.
Perhaps this is still in the category labelled “new experience” – and there are hundreds of women reading this going: “yeah, yeah…so what?”
Which is why this is so dangerous a post for blokes: for all those for whom buying flowers is habit: a pleasant ritual; but something with no obvious consquence.
Not so. Its about feeing loved. Wanted. Appreciated.
Its very very different being on the receiving end
(still buzzing pleasantly fom the experience)
foonote: andrea, of course, is still embarrassed from having to put up with her partner grabbing her the moment she got home and smothering her in kisses. Strangely, though, she seems to find giving a lot easier than receiving.