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February 14, 2019

A Valentine’s Day Love Letter.

I planted an Amaryllis bulb New Year’s Day.

This past week, I’ve watched it start to bloom. This morning, on Valentine’s Day, it’s all the way open, and its bright red petals are spectacular.

I’m opening up a little bit more each day to to the possibility that there might be someone out there that I could love.

Or want to date.

Or talk about my day with.

I’ve tried a little. Not too hard. I’d say I average a solid B-minus for effort.

I see my pattern of behavior. I get annoyed and tire quickly at the end of the day. I smile, nod my head politely to something I am half listening to while willing him out of my house with my eyes after a short time, wondering if he would get the hint faster if I just opened the door and threw his shoes and car keys out on the lawn.

I tell myself not to get discouraged.

I promise to try again but need a minute to think about you. About you and me. What worked. What didn’t. I take notes. I doodle little hearts and flowers around the border of a piece of paper that I throw in the garbage. I Marie Kondo the house. Make tidy rows of carefully folded socks. The closet is all mine.

Sharing the same house.

Half of the couch.

Half of the bed.

Half of a bagel.

I’ve witnessed couples doing this for years on end and they still seem to be smitten with each other.

Would anyone ever say out loud that they found the mere sound of their partners breathing to be loathsome? Could you say, “I love you, but loving you every day, forever, seems like such a long time at this moment. Could you please leave the room for a while so that I might have the chance to miss you?”

Or do you smile and nod and will them with your eyes to please stop their nose from making that horrible noise so that you never hurt their feelings.

I know how lucky I am. I have so much gratitude for a fresh start every single day that I wake up. It’s another chance to do better.



Learn something.

Every once in a while in upstate New York, the sun shines on my face, and I can feel the place in my heart that brightens at the possibility of you.


Whoever you are.

Where ever you are.

So, cheers to Valentine’s Day. I am sitting at an unapologetic table for one with a bouquet of pink and white glitter hearts and a flickering votive candle. I’m not disappointed. It smells like cupcakes and possibilities.

I don’t feel red and flashy like my Amaryllis, but I’m opening up a little bit more each day too to the possibility of you.

Happy Valentines Day.


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Kristina Henson  |  Contribution: 250

author: Kristina Henson

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Editor: Naomi Boshari