I didn't receive a Valentine's card, but then why would I? I did receive a chocolate croissant for breakfast, waiting for me before work on the wing mirror of my car in a non-Valentine's/Valentine's surprise gesture that really touched me. But that's all.
I did send a card though, and this is what it had written on it:
I wrote a poem of my own for inside the card, a haiku, but that's personal and I'm not going to reproduce it here. And though I left the card anonymous, and disguised my handwriting, the haiku and other clues were enough for the recipient to work out (with enough certainty to text a thank you) that it was from me. I love the idea of an anonymous card, but what's the point in making it impossible to work out who the sender is? For then the unrequited will surely always remain unrequited?
As it is, despite my clues, the unrequited remains unrequited anyway, but that's another story. On a lighter (?) note, tomorrow I plan to test my theory that saying "I ate a microwaved ready-meal for one" is a sure-fire way to stop people asking how you spent your Valentine's evening.
I did send a card though, and this is what it had written on it:
You are the spark that lit a thousand fireworks;This is a quote from Anna Maughan who, I discovered from Francesca, is a director at Urban Graphic, the company behind the Scrawl range of cards that I am more than happy to recommend to you.
Bursting and fizzing,
Writing your name across my heart.
I wrote a poem of my own for inside the card, a haiku, but that's personal and I'm not going to reproduce it here. And though I left the card anonymous, and disguised my handwriting, the haiku and other clues were enough for the recipient to work out (with enough certainty to text a thank you) that it was from me. I love the idea of an anonymous card, but what's the point in making it impossible to work out who the sender is? For then the unrequited will surely always remain unrequited?
As it is, despite my clues, the unrequited remains unrequited anyway, but that's another story. On a lighter (?) note, tomorrow I plan to test my theory that saying "I ate a microwaved ready-meal for one" is a sure-fire way to stop people asking how you spent your Valentine's evening.
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