he loves me not, he loves me.

When I was seven, the boy I loved brought roses to school for my best friend because she was “prettier” than me and that’s the first Valentine’s Day memory I have stored in my brain.

And though that’s how most of my life went – February 14ths aplenty that didn’t include roses – they all pretty much ruled in comparison to that one.

Even last year, when my husband wanted us to watch a violent sequel on Netflix.

Moral of the story?

My kisses don’t even begin with Kay, so husband, you can stop freaking out. Basically just don’t give flowers to my prettier friends and we’re good!

And chocolate.

Advertisements

Spill it.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s