Part 16

    You reach into your pocket desperately searching for anything, even mere pennies, to make such an important day special. How could you have forgotten? Stress from work is no excuse for such a failure. Letting such trivial details distract you from the most important thing in the world: her. Your heart sank and felt as empty as your hands when you removed them from your pockets. Valentine's Day tomorrow and not a cent to your name.

    Life had become expensive since the two of you began living together, one small trial after another. The seemingly distant memory of Christmas had since become tainted with thoughts of excessive spending and the hardships it had led to for the two of you. She had taken on more hours at work to help, but it never seemed to be enough. The exhaustion, stress, and lack of time together had started to cause a rift in you that only grew by the minute. Entire days would pass by where not a word was spoken between the two of you, and when you did speak all you did was fight. You could feel everything that you had worked so hard for, the life and love you had built with her, collapsing before you and here you were on such a special day unable to give her even the smallest bit of happiness. All you could do to keep from crying was rest your head in your hands in front of your desk.

    As you sat with your head in your hands, you hear a single "Goodnight," in a barely audible, dejected voice. In her words all you could find was exhaustion, not a trace of the love she showed to you just a scant few weeks ago. You felt a tear roll down your cheek as the door to your bedroom slammed shut. The room around you now dark and cold like the snow-covered world beyond your window. Her light and warmth that had made you feel so safe had suddenly vanished as if whisked away by the howling wind that blew against your window. "How can I make this right? What can I give her? What...What do I do?" With only a few short hours left until such an important day you had to do something for her, you had to show her that you still loved her. Your eyes began to grow heavy. The stress had run your body ragged, and as you felt the last of your consciousness fade a sudden epiphany. There was one thing you could give her that would truly show her that your feelings remained as strong as ever, and that is exactly what you would give her: Your feelings, as best you could show them in your own words.

    You grabbed for your pen and the word of love washed over you like a wave. Your emotions flowing forth from your pen and flooding the paper. Each expression flashed through your mind faster than your hand could move, accounts of love and longing, but none conveying even an ounce of what you felt. Lines upon lines of text the words with no rhyme nor reason, to read it would be as though listening to the ravings of a madman, but these were your emotions. Your heart laid bare, conveyed in the ink covering the page. With each hastily scrawled letter you felt your chest swell with pride, not for your work, but for the woman who inspired it. The hand on your shoulder guiding you through every tribulation, the angelic light illuminating your path, and the voice calling out to you even where that light could not reach. Your hands fell still as the last of your already drifting consciousness gave way to sleep.

    Your eyes wearily open with the first sign of light. As you sit up you notice a cover placed carefully across your shoulders. Without thought you turn your eyes to your desk. Your mind raced as you looked down, "Did she see what I wrote? Why did I have to fall asleep? There was still so much more I wanted to say!" There sitting just in front of you carefully wrapped in a heart-shaped box was what you could only assume to be chocolate, and the letter was nowhere to be found. Your heart sunk to your stomach. she had seen it, that terrible unfinished letter that you could barely recall the contents of. "She probably thinks I'm a moron... I have to talk to her!" Without another thought you jumped to your feet and rushed to through the house to find her like a lost child looking for its mother.

    You fling the door to your room open and there she sits, on the edge of your bed, with the note in hand. She looks up at you with her eyes filled with tears, and before a word can pass her lips you wrap your arms around her. That single embrace breaks the dam and once again your emotions flood forth in a torrent of apologies. She pulls away and her eyes meet yours. "There's no reason for you to apologize." The gentle smile on her face stands in stark contrast to mere hours ago, filled from cheek to cheek with nothing but love. "All you've ever wanted was the best for us, and I know you've tried as hard as you could. You've given me more than I ever could have hoped for.." She pulls the note close to her chest, "You've given me your heart." Your mind went blank. You had never thought that such a tiny gesture could mean so much to her. The only words you could find with which to reply with were "Happy Valentine's Day, Honey. I love you."

    Both of you had received the sweetest gift of all: The love of one another.