Let me just throw this out there: He-Man showed out!
I mean, I did have to leave out the sale paper with the necklace circled, the after-tax price calculated, AND remind him that the paper had not been laying under his face so conspicuously for no reason, but he pulled through. Then he surprised me with flowers. There was a semi-torrential downpour laying siege to this little corner of nowhere when I heard a knock at the door. Angel, of course, brought it upon herself to try to take this unknown interloper down. When I finally got her penned up – still barking – in the bedroom, I was able to let this soggy little man into my house. It was the local florist.
Now, before you all go judging me on the clutter and candy in the background, allow me to inform you that I am packing
five days in advance to go to Tampa for He-Man’s birthday. ‘Cause I’m sweet like that. And I guess that’s why I ended up with flowers. I have had a long, disappointing string of relationships over the last few years but I can honestly say that the last year with He-Man has been time well-wasted. I say wasted only because we both agree that we should be doing a little more with our lives, but I digress. We have had time to get to know one another on an everyday, in-your-face level and I love it. I also love him. He is so sweet, thoughtful, caring, and all the other mushy stuff that people say about “the one”. He is also capable of leaving me speechless with a note that came with the flowers:
Claire, I love you so much! I could never picture a day without you, sweetheart. Sunshine or rain, every day with you is a blessing. Love, Your He-Man.
The part that really got me was that he actually signed it “Your He-Man” because he is trying to support my attempts at blogging in leu of a real social life
since waiting tables makes me hate people. His support means everything to me and I know that I have it no matter what.
This has been the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had – hands down – and I even spent the later part of it in the ER being treated for a moderate laceration on my finger. I tried going for the gold in can-opening and failed miserably, but that’s another story for another day. The stupid Russian judge low-balled me anyway. Until next time, I will be basking in the glory that is He-Man and, for those of you who have stayed with me this long, thanks for reading.