He's mine

Every year for as long as I can remember D has given me a handmade card on 14/2. Usually its done in watercolours, once it was a photo. They are all in frames on a wall in our bedroom. They're beautiful.

I have no idea where he finds the time to do it every year, and how he keeps it a secret. Every year I wonder if this is the year when he will drop the tradition. But he probably feels he can't now. He has dug himself a metaphorical hole, from which there is no escape.

I loves him I do (as they say in these parts).