February 12, 2008

Ah, Valentine’s Day. It is just loaded with potential – good and bad. I have suffered through some pretty terrible February 14ths in my time, but I have also had some really great Valentines as well. I do love boys – always have, but not in a boy-crazy way. Rather, I wanted to be one of the guys. I wanted to be as loud and rude and drunk and strong and tough as they were. Needless to say, I wasn’t much of a dater. I could be found during my high school days in the back seat of Jay’s huge Buick, driving around with three or four guy friends, smoking Camels and listening to Nine Inch Nails. It all started with Beau in first grade. I would tag around after him on the playground, and we would hang out in the corner smashing rocks and digging holes. Beau was followed by an unlikely parade of preps, jocks, drama geeks, and skate punks that I befriended, idolized and adored. I got married right out of high school to a friend-turned-boyfriend, and was divorced before my 21st birthday. Heartbroken, I threw caution to the wind and decided to date – for literally the first time in my life. And boy, did I date. The list was light on career-minded gentlemen, and heavier on the unemployed bass players. And keeping with my “one of the guys” history, I was never drawn to particularly romantic guys… the less attention they paid me, and the less interest they showed, the more determined I became to win them over. The resulting relationships were pretty devoid of any sort of romancing on their parts, and I was sure I had no interest in that sort of mushy gushy touchy feely crap anyway. Just pay the bar tab, and I’ll be romanced.

And then, I met my husband. I have told the story of our meeting time and again, and it’s usually a real crowd pleaser, but I’ll spare you the details.  Suffice to say our relationship has been full of extremely romantic, roll your eyes and gag sort of moments. The corniest and most unlikely circumstances were our reality. We met in the middle of a crowded train station during rush hour, with hordes of people passing, and it would have been so totally and completely romantic, if he had not been dressed like a total goofball. Laundry day, he explained to me later. Our first kiss was during a light snowfall in the middle of a quiet street under an old street light in Boston’s North End. He proposed a few months after we starting dating, at the end of a pier in Provincetown, on the very tip of Cape Cod, with an audience of fishermen who were trying to get us to move, and a crowd of strangers who clapped. We were married on the beach in front of his family’s home on Cape Cod on a perfect September day.  We have renewed our wedding vows – twice – and we consider each other our best friend.

I know. Gross. I agree completely.  But, here’s the thing.
It turns out, that when those romantic moments happen spontaneously, it’s pretty cool. And when he actually DOES make an effort to be “romantical” his sincerity and thoughtful nature just blow me away.

It’s not about surprising me with flowers (which he does, and which I highly recommend to all you guys out there) but he writes the most amazing notes in every card he gives me. Even the to-do list is signed with an “I love you.” I have saved almost every note and card I have ever received from him – with good reason. We could market these messages to all the hapless guys out there who are tongue-tied or uncertain of how to put their feelings on paper. Change a few of the pertinent details, and any woman (or man) would be yours forever, I’m pretty sure.  One night, nine years ago, I was working late. I came home to a note on the kitchen counter. It’s scribbled on the back of a grocery list, stained with what looks like ketchup – but I still have it in my bedside drawer. And will keep it there until the day I die, I’m sure.

So I thought, in an effort to provide a public service, I would help everyone out with some tips on writing the Greatest Love Letter of All Time. The one that will be carried around in a wallet, or shown to friends, or stuck on the refrigerator, or tucked away in a drawer to be re-read for years. A really good one, folks.

Gentlemen, start out by comparing her to something beautiful – a flower, a celestial being, a summer day, a Disney Princess for all I care. You can even compare her to the ocean, or riding a motorcycle. Whatever makes your heart go pitter-pat, that’s what you are going for. Don’t worry about rhyming or being cute, or spelling words correctly (though you get bonus points if you do). It doesn’t need to be long – one or two really good sentences is all it takes.
 
If you are giving a card, for crying out loud pick a good one. Go to the grocery store, or Long’s, or that store in the mall, or any one of the fabulous boutiques throughout this island. Almost all of them sell cards. BECAUSE CARDS ARE IMPORTANT. We can’t get more obvious than that, guys. All of my girlfriends agree – a good card with a heartfelt, sweet, sincere, handwritten note inside can be so much better than a gift.

DO NOT SEND AN ECARD. If you are far away, buy some extra stamps and get it to her – even if it arrives late. Seriously. Electronic mail does not a love letter make.

Now, I know much of this has been directed towards the men. Ladies, all you need to do is let him know you love him, and why. Explain how he makes you feel, and how important he is to you. And perhaps tell him exactly how you will show him your love and devotion. In detail.

So, once you have the letter written, you need to figure out a way to deliver it. Left on a pillow, tucked in a bag, stuck under a windshield wiper, or delivered in person with a kiss, a flower, a box of chocolates, or something in a jewelry box perhaps…

And a final note… as it turns out, my beloved husband was indeed one of those unemployed bass players. So don’t rule them out.

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Vanesa Ghantous