So here is the brutal truth. Thirteen years ago I met one of those dark, handsome, brooding guys who makes you sweat just by looking at you, who you break all the rules for, who your mother finds undeniably handsome and irreparably flawed, and who your father instantly hates.
We met in January.
Jump ahead to February, the fourteenth to be exact. Valentine's Day. This guy had no car, so asked me to drive the 45 minutes to his house so that we could be together on such a romantic holiday.
So I did.
And when I got to his house, (I had a wrapped gift for him--a book--and a red rose . . . yeah, I was totally in love) I knocked on the door, and knocked, and knocked some more, and then pounded on the door. No one answered. I tried to go inside. The door was locked.
So, in spite of the really cold weather, I sat in my car and froze my butt off for an hour, (surely I'd gotten the time wrong, right? He must have said 6:30, not 5:30) until someone finally came home. Was it The Guy? Nope. His roommate. Roomie let me into the house and cringed--LITERALLY CRINGED--when he saw the gift and rose in my hands. I tried to ignore the bile and fury and embarrassment surging through me and looked around.
My dear, handsome, mysterious boyfriend was gone. So were his snowboard, boots, gloves, coat, hat, goggles . . . you get the picture.
So, yeah--worst Valentine's Day ever.
Wanna know the funny part? I married him four months later (and we're still married). And I also know exactly how it feels to be stood up--perfect knowledge for a writer, right? But I still have to ask myself . . . was the knowledge worth the price?
What's your worst Valentine's Day? And don't be shy!
11 comments:
married 4 months later!? WOW, he must have apologized splendidly =)
Fortunately for me, I have no upsetting Valentine's day stories. I think that has more to do with the fact that I never celebrated the day. I just don't see the point.
Maybe I'm not as romantic as I thought I was.
Wow. That must have been some apology. Or some enormous diamond. *grins*
I try not to remember the bad holidays or they tend to haunt me. Not going to delve into the recesses of my memory to decide on a worst one.
I agree with the above posters. That must have been some apology! Though, I certainly did my share of blowing off and groveling before I married Bart.
Whatever happened to that rose?
Yep...I'm dying to know the story of what happened between the worst Valentines Day, and the wedding day!
My husband doesn't really get romantic holidays. Last night he brought me soup from a gourmet cafeteria. So he did remember, and I asked for soup, but...
Three years back, he didn't get me anything. No reason, he said he just hates to shop. My sweet daughter, however, had the babysitter take her to the store. I still have pictures of her holding up the flowers and box of chocolates she bought for her mom. So that day, in many ways, was both a worst and a best.Why don't men get it--if it's soup, it needs to be in a little gift bag with M&M's sprinkled in the bottom, at least:)
Yes, do tell what happened between Valentine's Day and the wedding!!
Oh, wow! He must have REALLY made it up to you!
Now that's a story I'd like to hear. You know we writers are all filling in the blanks ourselves, right? ;)
Now that could be the basis for a great novel!! Glad you 2 made it through that ordeal! :)
I accidentally stood up my now husband for a date once. First date to be exact. Glad he was willing to try again. :)
I'm with the others. We need to know the rest of that story!
This iis a great post
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