“Tuesday’s St Valentine’s Day”

“Is it?”

“It is”

“Wonderful”

“Why don’t we go away somewhere?”

“That sounds nice”

“We could leave Friday afternoon and make it a long weekend” The noncommittal nod I get for my efforts is infuriating. “Somewhere romantic” I propose, hoping to garner some interest. It was clear I didn’t have her undivided attention and mostly likely wouldn’t for the next half hour even then it wouldn’t be easy talking her round, the festive day wasn’t one she cared for. I on the other hand have been turning ideas over in my head for the past three weeks or so trying to come up with something special all the while knowing to her Valentine’s Day would just be another day, only highly commercialised. 

Having already arranged a weekend away, it was now just a matter of letting her know, surprises were something else she didn’t care for. It was an ordeal but I managed to shortlist my extensive list of locations to five highly praised retreats I knew she’d enjoy, then further down to two, I’ve made reservations at both on the off chance my paranoia wins out. I like to be prepared but even the best of us are faced with obstacles. Suppose on our way to the retreat Bette expresses an interest in paragliding, retreat two would be the more fitting of the two for such a pursuit. One incredibly dangerous swerve on the motorway and we would be on our way to paragliding. Not only am I a romantic, I am an accommodating one whose driving skills are akin to the great Nigel Mansell’s.

I’ve been watching her carefully for the past couple of minutes while we had what could only be described as one-sided discussion about our plans for Valentine’s Day. I want her to know that her input is valued even though I’ve already made all the arrangements. I can’t help the frown brought forth by the thought, was I a control freak? The thought didn’t jell, still here I was sitting on the couch with my girlfriend requesting input on a matter which was practically concrete.