18 years ago he wrote me a letter. It was on paper from a yellow legal pad and was three pages long. He handed it to me as he got out of my car at the airport. It was Valentine’s Day.
We hadn’t been in love very long. 27 days to be exact. 27 days since he first said, “I love you.”
He was flying to Hawaii for a tournament. I had gotten up early to drive him to the airport. It was worth it just to spend 30 minutes with my Valentine. I was sad not to be spending Valentine’s Day with my new love. Who could have guessed that 18 years later I would still be doing the same thing–watching golf scores instead of dining by candlelight at a fancy, over-priced restaurant.
But I didn’t know that then. All I knew was that my Valentine had written me a love letter, a long love letter carefully hand written. He didn’t realize that there wasn’t a better present that he could have given me.
However, he managed to top himself the very next year. While I was sitting in a class in Dale Hall, I could see the Golfer’s face smiling at me through the small rectangular window in the door. A few seconds later, he stuck a sign in the window written on notebook paper that said, “Will You Be My Valentine?” My girlfriends in the class oohed and aahed as I blushed, smiled, and tried to hide how crazy in love I was with this man.
It was like I was in love in a movie.
I have a box filled with love notes. There’s an email with the subject titled: “Love You” that I printed out to save. There are fancy cards and sexy cards and notes written on everyday notepaper. There’s one that says, “Don’t forget, I love you” and another that says, “I can’t wait to see you.” My favorite is one that says, “Here’s some extra $. Go buy yourself something nice.”
If only I found more of those kind of notes lying around the house.
Nowadays, most of the love notes come in the form of text messages. Quick phrases that get the message across, well, quickly. They don’t quite contain the romance of a 3-page letter, but an effective form of communication nonetheless.
Yes, the love notes have gotten hard to write after 18 years. We’ve said it all. We’ve expressed our love over and over again. We’ve repeated ourselves thousands of times. But love is one of those situations where repeating yourself isn’t considered a bad thing.
I’m sad because that 3-page letter, written on a yellow legal pad, is nowhere to be found. After 18 years, a marriage, multiple moves, and two kids later, I can’t seem to find it. Yes, shocking I know. However, the Dale Hall note is framed, but hanging in my closet of all places since framed pictures of the boys have taken over the walls.
But still, after 18 years, I still feel like I’m in love in a movie. A very long movie where the leading lady (me) is tired and grumpy and could use a love note from her leading man (the Golfer) right about now.
I should go check my text messages.