I love my wife. I could list the main reasons why I love her, but most of them are very likely the same reasons you love your significant other. I could tell you my reasons why I love her and you could tell me your reasons why you love whoever it is you love, and for almost the entire conversation we would both nod our heads, because about 80% of the reasons we love people are the same.
It’s the little stuff that fills in the rest of that 20%: The way your significant other slurs after the third glass of wine, or the way they mumble when the snooze alarm goes off (and off…and off), or the way they handle themselves in busy traffic. That 20% is completely random for all of us, I think: If you knew my 20% you’d think I was crazy, and vice-versa.
A big part of love is finding common ground about small things. Big things are important too, but those tend to take care of themselves. People don’t often get together when one values the high life and the other wants to be a social worker, or when one loves kids and the other hates them. Small things are more subtle, and sometimes take years to be discovered, but when couples find enough of them the world spins just a little truer on its axis. Every good relationship is built on the critical mass of common ground found for both the big and small issues in life.
One small thing I have always lived with is a deep hatred of Valentine’s Day. I have mentioned before that I think it’s nothing more than a Hallmark Holiday, a ruse mined by greedy and emotionally needy women for hundreds of years. And who falls for it? Whipped and insecure guys who are afraid something important will be withheld if they don’t pony up the merchandise and showy displays of affection.
And yeah, I’ll admit I participated in the Valentine’s con a few times in my life, because at the time I thought that was what the person of my affections was interested in, and I wanted to get in their good graces. But those days are over, and I’ll tell you why:
My beautiful wife Jane doesn’t care about Valentine’s Day any more than I do.
We talked today and confirmed neither of us were doing anything special for the other beyond the special way we treat each other every single day. Sure, we do stuff for the kids, although the schools do a good enough job indoctrinating them into the scheme. But for each other, nada. It’s beautiful.
It helps, of course, that Jane’s birthday is February 13th, so we already go through a bout of merchandise and showy displays of affection in mid-February. But her birthday is real, as is our celebration of it. Valentine’s Day? Not real, and Jane knows that.
And that’s one of the many, many small reasons why I love her so much.