As I approached the mailbox, I felt a twinge of sadness. It wasn’t the first Valentine’s Day without someone special to spend it with – there had been many of those; it just seemed to be weighing on me heavier this year. Most of my friends were married and having kids, and instead of a brood of girls to occupy the evening, I was facing an evening alone, watching some sappy love story, eating pizza and ice cream. It wasn’t so bad, really.
It didn’t feel too great either.
I opened up the mailbox, grabbing the pile of envelopes inside, and trudged back to my front door. As I shuffled through my mail, glancing at the return addresses to see what I had gotten, I came across one envelope that was handwritten. The return address space on the front of the envelope was blank, and I turned it over to see if it was printed on the back, but all I saw was a red heart sticker sealing it closed. A nice touch, for sure.
My interest was piqued, and I began carefully ripping open the envelope, my feet no longer carrying me forward. Out popped a Valentine’s Day card.
The front had a beautiful, albeit typical, design for the holiday. There were varying shades of pink that seemed to effervesce and glow with love. “Be My Valentine” was written in a beautiful, scrawling script, and it was trimmed out with a simple white border.
My heart jumped.
I looked up, glancing around the yard, but I didn’t see anyone nearby. Of course. That was silly; the card had been mailed, and it wasn’t likely that the sender would know when I would pick up my mail. I dashed into the house, anxious to read the card inside in the privacy of my own home.
Once inside, I dropped the rest of the mail on the console table, taking the card with me to the couch. Who could have sent it? I only knew a few single guys, and none of them showed signs that they were interested in me.
I opened the card, skipping over the printed parts, and read the handwritten note scribbled inside. It said:
Dear Jenny,
You are absolutely stunning in every way, and I have hopelessly fallen for you. I know you’re alone for Valentine’s Day, and it just didn’t seem right for you to go through this day without hearing that you are loved. I wish I could say all of this in person, but I’m a coward. I’m too afraid of what you might think, and I’m afraid that I’m simply not good enough for you. Please forgive me for not coming to you personally and treating you to a day of romance as I wish I could. If you don’t mind, I would like to pretend, just for today, that you are my sweet Valentine.
Be Mine,
Your Secret Admirer
My face flushed with warmth and a smile crept over my face as my mind raced back through the men in my life. Who was this Secret Admirer? Why couldn’t he approach me himself? What was so wrong with him that he didn’t feel he could be with me?
As I sat on the couch, my mind swirling with the possibilities, I heard a knock on the door. My brows furrowed; I wasn’t expecting anyone. I looked down at the card in my hand, and my heart jumped. Was it my secret admirer?
I quickly made my way to the door, looking through the peephole before opening it – a habit I had picked up since I began living by myself. There was a man outside. He looked relatively young, but his head was down. He held a large bouquet of red roses, and my heart began pumping harder, tears welling up in my eyes.
I checked myself in the mirror, wiping the tears away before they could spill over and smoothing my hair back into place. I shook my head, took a deep breath, and opened the door, greeting the man with a smile. When he lifted his head, I gasped, my eyes opening wide.
“I couldn’t stay away,” he mumbled, looking back down at his feet.
“I’m glad you didn’t,” I replied, my smile deepening. This would be one Valentine’s Day I would never forget.
What did you think of the story? Who would you want to be on the other side of the door? Leave a comment and let me know – I may even incorporate your input into my next post!
