Dear Future Valentine,
You're probably going to consider yourself pretty lucky when it comes to Valentine's Day because it's not one of my favorite holidays and I won't put any pressure on you to come up with a grand romantic plan. My un-love for Valentine's Day has always been around, trust that it's not just founded in love scorned and bitter memories. But you'll have caught on pretty quickly that I'm a simple girl with unpretentious taste. So none of this will be news to you.
But yet you'll completely understand when I dress in reds and pinks and put a little heart pin on my cardigan. You'll poke fun of my job, but actually take a little pride in the fact that you're woman is a librarian.
When we both come home from a long day at work. A day where I spent my time reading stories about a frog's first kiss and counting a large number of hearts with preschoolers. And a day where you spend your time watching office ladies display large bouquets of roses on their desk. We'll have no other option than to order Chinese take-out and eat on the floor of the living room as we declare our mutual love of Ron Swanson, once again.
There won't be any major gifts, but you should learn to expect some type of craft I whipped up in the afternoon. Maybe it will involve your favorite candy, or perhaps it will just include a lot of glittery stickers. But either way, it will be yours. With a little message written especially for you.
And when we get to bed, probably a little after midnight, I'll notice a card sitting on my pillow. It wasn't there in the morning, but perhaps you put it there after I left. Or maybe as I was brushing my teeth before bed. A card because you know I like words more than fancy dinners. And because you also know that my Hallmark-employee youth still hasn't fully washed away. No matter the type of card though, your words written inside will be the best thing.
And we'll kiss. Tell each other a funny a story. And sleep.
Until that Valentine's Day.