You guys make me laugh. I can imagine the stories you're making up to fill in the blanks about the conclusion to my terrible Valentine's Day, posted about here. The sad truth is, the guy was a jerk and got a better Valentine's Day offer (in his obviously flawed opinion)--night snowboarding--so ditched me. He didn't do much to make it up back then (But he has since mended his ways!).
I was such a besotted, love-sick fool that, after tearing the petals off the rose I'd gotten for him--and stomping them into the snow, and after he gave me a good dose of puppy dog eyes, I totally forgave him.
Some of you know I got on a greyhound bus days after my twenty-first birthday, rode it across the USA, and married him. What does this have to do with writing? I guess I know how it feels to be so in love that you are willing to risk everything. Makes for a good story, at least.
To this day I have no regrets. I followed my heart and it led me to a really good place.