How do your past Valentine’s Day experiences measure up to these tales of woe and happiness?
On paper, my 2015 Valentine’s Day was going to be a night to remember. My lady and I planned a fancy dinner in Montreal—there was going to be plenty of champagne involved, and she even promised me a “special surprise” when we got back to our hotel room. The problem lay in the execution. The dinner was great, but I leaned a little too hard on the bubbly. By the time we returned to the hotel the only “surprise” I got was the sudden urge to vomit for the rest of the night. So I guess it was a night to remember, but for all the wrong reasons.
It was Valentine’s Day, and my wonderfully romantic boyfriend got all dressed up in a suit and surprised me with a dozen roses. Unfortunately I had just gotten back from the dentist, where I got fillings on both sides of my mouth in a last ditch effort to use up my dental benefits. I had no energy, a swollen face, and physical exhaustion and pain. This was nothing compared to the guilt I felt after squashing my own Valentine’s Day plans. The lesson here: never book an appointment with the dentist on a big date night!
At the start of my current relationship, I had never been on a date before. That was a mind blowing concept to my boyfriend, so he decided that he would make Valentine’s Day our first ever date. Obviously, this could have been a disaster, but things started off on the right foot when he took me to a book signing by my favourite author, Gena Showalter.
After that, we went to this field in the country where we had a picnic in the cargo area of his truck. Surprisingly, he cooked everything and only asked my friends for advice on what to cook. After talking and laughing and joking around he gave me my promise ring, as well as a cheesy speech that we still laugh about to this date.
Fast forward three years later and we’re still going strong, but I remember that Valentine’s Day picnic as the moment I fell in love with him.
We had a great date. Got some drinks and were talking for hours, with everything feeling very, very natural and relaxed. We left and headed our separate ways for the night. As we said our goodbyes I went in for a kiss… and he gave me a hug back. It’s cool that that’s how he wanted the night to end, it was just an uncomfortable few seconds and then some mental cringing walking to my bus. But whatever.
—What do I do with my hands