Alex and I don’t normally celebrate Valentine’s Day. Or perhaps I forgot even if we did. Last year’s Valentine’s, I was in Malaysia and he was in London. Hmm… he bought me a limited edition classic YSL’s red arty ring. The year before, he brought me to a nice restaurant with another pair of friends, and surprised me with a bouquet of my favourite flowers. I didn’t recall this incident until he mentioned.
In the morning of this Valentine’s Day, I woke up to Alex with a bouquet of roses next to the bed. I thought I was dreaming, turned my body the other way and tried to go back to sleep. It was real, but it felt surreal.
After work, he made effort to cook a special dinner meal and gave me my second bouquet of flowers, my favourite lilies! It wasn’t exactly anything fancy, but was simple enough to make me happy. Looking back of what I have wrote, it seems like there had already been three Valentine’s Day celebrations consecutively, and just because Alex mentioned it a few times that he doesn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day, I switched on my selective memory mode to sulk over days before Valentine’s Day each year! He must be very glad that I have jotted this down, but I am also very grateful for the sweet gestures from a boyfriend who claims not to celebrate this retailers’ manipulative day!