Valentine's Starry Night
Flashback:
JD dropped me off at my favorite boutique and waited while I made figure-eights through the racks of clothing. Usually he’s my human shopping cart—organizing the shirts on one arm, juggling the pants on the other, keeping one hand free to hold the skirts—but on that Thursday evening three months ago, he loitered around the dressing rooms wallpapered with Vogue and W magazines. I’m going to take a walk, do you mind?
Forty-five minutes later, he returned with a beaming smile. Like the kind of smile one might see on a grandmother who’s just had her cat rescued from a tree. Elated, excited, ecstatic. He went on to tell me about an art store nearby that sells famous paintings, redone by local artists. Klimt, Rembrant, Matisse. JD told me he found Van Gogh’s Starry Night and insisted we buy it. When he told me the price, I scoffed. Literally, I made the sound of a scoff. Schoffschmeshpfft.
Why would you want to pay good money for a wannabe painting?!
Then I made the scoff sound again. Schoffschmeshpfft.
JD just stared at me. Then at the jeans I held closely to my chest. Then back at me. It’s funny how differently we value things JD tersely said. That painting costs less than that pair of jeans. I wanted to immediately apologize. I wanted to put up a fight. I wanted to be right. But I couldn’t and I wasn’t. Had the tables been turned, JD would have left the store in a nanosecond and purchased the painting. No questions asked. He’d do whatever to see me happy. And, well, I just scoff.
Today, Valentine’s Day 2007:
Our room was still grey. The sun was fighting to make its way into the window blinds when I woke. Happy Valentine’s, JD chirped from under his pillow. He always wakes happy. It’s gift time!! I whooped as I climbed off the bed. Although we agreed to not exchange gifts this year, I leaned under the bed and began rummaging. Jaz, I thought we were just going out for dinner?! JD groaned. I placed the large white package on his blanket-covered belly while he propped himself with pillows.
A minute later, Starry Night sat in his lap.
It was my way of saying sorry. It was my way of saying how much I love him. It was my way of ensuring he’ll always smile like an old grandma who’s found her lost cat.
Happy Valentine’s Day!
JD dropped me off at my favorite boutique and waited while I made figure-eights through the racks of clothing. Usually he’s my human shopping cart—organizing the shirts on one arm, juggling the pants on the other, keeping one hand free to hold the skirts—but on that Thursday evening three months ago, he loitered around the dressing rooms wallpapered with Vogue and W magazines. I’m going to take a walk, do you mind?
Forty-five minutes later, he returned with a beaming smile. Like the kind of smile one might see on a grandmother who’s just had her cat rescued from a tree. Elated, excited, ecstatic. He went on to tell me about an art store nearby that sells famous paintings, redone by local artists. Klimt, Rembrant, Matisse. JD told me he found Van Gogh’s Starry Night and insisted we buy it. When he told me the price, I scoffed. Literally, I made the sound of a scoff. Schoffschmeshpfft.
Why would you want to pay good money for a wannabe painting?!
Then I made the scoff sound again. Schoffschmeshpfft.
JD just stared at me. Then at the jeans I held closely to my chest. Then back at me. It’s funny how differently we value things JD tersely said. That painting costs less than that pair of jeans. I wanted to immediately apologize. I wanted to put up a fight. I wanted to be right. But I couldn’t and I wasn’t. Had the tables been turned, JD would have left the store in a nanosecond and purchased the painting. No questions asked. He’d do whatever to see me happy. And, well, I just scoff.
Today, Valentine’s Day 2007:
Our room was still grey. The sun was fighting to make its way into the window blinds when I woke. Happy Valentine’s, JD chirped from under his pillow. He always wakes happy. It’s gift time!! I whooped as I climbed off the bed. Although we agreed to not exchange gifts this year, I leaned under the bed and began rummaging. Jaz, I thought we were just going out for dinner?! JD groaned. I placed the large white package on his blanket-covered belly while he propped himself with pillows.
A minute later, Starry Night sat in his lap.
It was my way of saying sorry. It was my way of saying how much I love him. It was my way of ensuring he’ll always smile like an old grandma who’s found her lost cat.
Happy Valentine’s Day!
Labels: Personal
posted by Jasmine at 5:48 PM
8 Comments:
I loved that story thanks for the inspiration!
I must be really sentimental today, because that literally brought a tear to my eye. Sweet, sweet story. You are a beautiful writer. :)
I can think of nothing else to say but...
AWWWWWWW!!!!
Miss you!
I am literally teary here. What a sweet story!
sooo cute!! :D
THAT'S love.
What a happy ending, I'm glad you bought the painting for him!
Such a beautiful story
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