I realize that this blog post I’m about to write will make some of you hate me, but I don’t care.
It’s Valentine’s Day, and I want to boast about the love of my life (next to shoes, that is)!
So I’m a woman in love.
Maybe this won’t last long much like the others, but I have high hopes. We’ve got a lot in common, as they say.
In fact, perhaps the only quality my other half and I don’t share is shoe size.
Here we are in the picture waiting for our ride from the airport.
He: in French Connection sneakers once dubbed as “fake Converse” by a homeless man in New York Penn Station.
Me: in the gold Target ballet flats I wear when in doubt. We had just spent a glorious long weekend in Chicago for a comic convention (yes, we are huge Star Wars fans) and not a single fight, argument or awkwardness.
I realized, he may be the one.
It’s hard to imagine what life would be like had I not joined an online dating site on a whim and met him. He finds my inability to remember virtually anything about him (I have a bad memory bank) endearing.
We’ve been together a year and I still can’t remember when his birthday is — not even the month. (I think it’s October??) I can’t even tell you what his middle name is despite the fact that I’ve been seeing his CFA on the wall for months. Although I may not remember dates and facts, what I do remember is how it felt every moment to be with him and what pair of shoes I was wearing when I felt them.
On our first date, I was wearing silver BCBG pumps and I thought his eye glasses and sincere smile were adorable.
I was in gold Cynthia Rowley peep toe shoes when he met my parents for the first time at my sister’s wedding.
And by the way, they adore him.
I was in brown faux-Alligator boots from Nine West last Valentine’s Day when he ranted about how he hates the Hallmark holiday… and then sent me flowers at work.
And I was in my gold ballet flats, the shoes of doubt… when I first realized that there was no doubt…
I could spend the rest of my life with him.