Dear Valentine,

You are so very, very easy to love. It seem like years ago that I wondered at the squirming lump in my belly and tried to imagine a real person. I think about you and my stewardship of your sweet, wild spirit. As I guide and shape you, you do the same to me. I love the way that you and I can be together, not saying anything, looking where we please, thinking what we please. Do you think we can hold on to that? I hope so.

Dear Valentine,

You and I are peas in a pod. Loving you helps me learn to love myself. I love your quirkiness, the way you have of doing your own thing, oblivious to others' presence. I love to watch your face contort while you have imaginary conversations in your head. I love your penchant for finding hidden treasures- in the gutter, on the floor of the checkout lane, under a pile of leaves. You are my treasure.

Dear Valentine,

You and I are trailblazers. You see my flaws most clearly-my jagged edges are still sharp enough to cut you. I know there is pain in this, but I like to think there's a special bond too. I think of us, faces smudged with dirt, machetes in hand, hacking our way through the jungle together. You turn to me for reassurance and I kiss you on the head. Then we plunge ahead. Oh how I love you.

Dear Valentine,

Do you sometimes get tired while building this house of a life with me? It's still covered in dust and construction debris, and maybe it will be for some time, but underneath I think it's shaping up to be a solid, beautiful structure. Thanks for holding the ladder steady for me.

Love,
Me