Valentine's Day . . . Bah Humbug!

Valentine’s Day is a pseudo-holiday at best. It may as well be called Adam Smith Day, and we should celebrate with the delivery of widgets from some invisible hand. Luckily, although Megan may debate the use of that classification, for me it has become a sort of ersatz day for the celebration of Megan in lieu of her birthday. For as long as we’ve known one another, her birthday has fallen in the middle of my finals period and I’ve been unable to dote upon her as she deserves. At this point I hear Meg’s voice calling from deep in the recesses of my mind reminding me we met nearly ten years ago when I was a freshman at the U, and that, well frankly, that’s a really a long time to have been in school. I’m not sure when her voice got there, in the back of my mind, whispering like some sarcastic version of my conscience. All you who have been in a relationship for some time surely know what I'm talking about. It's the way you know how to finish their sentences the quiet echo to everything you say . . . except when you’re wrong. There it is again, “psshhh, so not echoing very often, huh?” Megan is laughing at that one by the way, and, well, so am I. That’s the beauty of marrying your best friend, even when she isn’t with me, she is. She is a part of me, more often than not, the better part of me. She brings out the best in me. Takes all my best qualities, and balances out all my bad. There is no one else I would rather be with. On a weekday night after school, on a weekend getaway to anywhere in the world, or even in the middle of the night with a sick kid, so long as she is there, it is better. “ok, ok, that’s too cheesy. I think I’m going to throw up now.”

I love my wife more than I can possibly express. She is the most loving, loyal, passionate, and beautiful person I know. I can't imagine a better companion and am eternally grateful that I have her in my life.