I assume most husbands like to remind their wives that they are loved by surprising them with flowers. It is a pretty standard gesture and I'm guessing it became standard because bunches of guys were doing it. Today I came home and found a submarine sandwich in my fridge and my heart just melted because that is how my husband lets me know I'm loved (well, that or a double cheeseburger from Mc Donald's).
There is a valuable lesson in this for young lovers searching for "The One". Remember that "The One" is YOUR One and don't get all caught up in what that means to every one else. When I was in high school the vice principal called me to his office (this was no particular shock, I was there so often I asked if we shouldn't put my name on a second plaque on the door; sadly, this was shut down) and told me that he didn't like this Ariel Jones character. Being a sassy smart ass in desperate need of a punch in the mouth I tartly replied, "Then I won't call and invite you along when we go to the movies", spun around and left the room. I'm really glad I did though, because I could have ended up with a traditional good guy who brings me flowers regularly and missed out on the "obnoxious kid" who brings me processed meats and mayonnaise.
You have to be true to yourself to be happy. I didn't know this when I started dating Air, I just lucked out. Thank goodness the total babe sitting next to me in math class turned out to be funny, hard working, loyal, and honest. This is not to say that it is always a bed of roses around here. There are times I'd like to give him a good punch in the mouth. I try not to though. Instead I try to remember that more sub sandwich days are sure to come, but probably not if I sock him one or walk out that door.
Maybe this makes a heap of sense to you. Maybe it is crazy babble. Either way, I have a date with an Italian mix and I'm going to thoroughly enjoy it.