Apprise the prize reprised

In which our hero considers the value of days and seconds

Every relationship has its traditions and standards that is unique to the people and circumstances therein. Like how to figure out who does the dishes or who gets which side of the bed. But a de facto tradition that has developed entirely organically between Nocturne and me is that we’ve somehow gotten into the habit of supersizing our “event” days.

I have to admit, I don’t really remember how it started, because as with the better traditions, we didn’t set out to create one. I suspect it would have been just a practical reality of something making it difficult or impossible to spend a lot of time on the actual day of the occasion to celebrate with any luxury. And so we’d book the next day, or the next weekend, or whatever interval, and just continue the festivities all proper-like.

So it was mostly expediency, but honestly, I think we’ve stumbled onto something important, because the result is a little more time spent being a little more attentive. It gives us time to indulge and yet it feels very unpressured because there’s more to come. And we don’t have to stress about Nocturne’s flu/sinus infection/temporal anomaly making her not enjoy her Valentine’s day because part II is just waiting for her to feel better. Plus, at least with birthdays, it gives an extra day to enjoy without the loving random interruptions of well intentioned well wishers.

I suppose I shouldn’t call it a do-over. A do-over kind of discards the first attempt in trying to get a better result. What I’m talking is a more of a Deluxe treatment. “Not only do you get to keep your original day but now you get a second day specifically chosen for the opportunity to be even more indulgent!”

So I think I want to actually embrace it as an official tradition rather than a curiously consistent series of accidents. It’s just more fun this way.

I laughed a little at the note that said my Valentine’s day poem was sweet and typical. It’s very kind, and I was trying to be sweet so I’m pleased that you think so, Gentle Reader. But let’s face it, you go back through my Valentine’s Day entries, and they’re usually a more raucous than sweet.

So I’ll take the kudos because “Yay, it went over okay!”

But seriously. Typically sweet? Me?

Heh.

We were talking about movies because I’d suggested watching one that was a bit of a comfort movie for her. And she started to tell me about how she had these movies she liked to watch when she was sick. And then over the line came a eureka-gasp and with all the joy of a small child on christmas morning exclaimed, “I *AM* sick!” as she realized that she was now entitled to indulge in watching her favourite comfort movies.

I couldn’t help myself, I started laughing out of sheer enjoyment of her reaction.

We spend most of our lives learning deliberately or accidentally to manage our emotions, and even when we’re not doing it deliberately, we’re preoccupied with a million different things colouring our every reaction with their weight. But once in a while, the fates align, and you get to see someone gasp wide-eyed, and it’s as honest and intimate as it may be possible to get. A drop of pure distilled joy.

I’m nearly certain she thinks I was making fun of her; she felt she had to give me permission to share that I’d laughed at her. When really I was just basking.