Happy Valentine's Day

Me: Hoima, Uganda

Him: Mombasa, Kenya

Distance: 1,340km

Occasionally one of us might remember to get the other a card on Valentine's Day, but more often

than not we will forget what day it is until we are sat in traffic trying to figure out why the usual people selling nuts, newspapers, and puppies alongside traffic jams are all clutching red roses. This morning was what is turning out to be a fairly typical morning: we both woke up in separate hotels in separate countries and had separate breakfasts. (At least I assumed he had breakfast - we haven't actually spoken today. I did, however, send a Skype 'Happy Valentine's' message, with an emoticon of a ghekko eating a heart. I'm not sure what it was supposed to stand for really, but it seemed fitting).

So in lieu of any kind of card, present, or show of thought beyond a heart eating ghekko, I've been considering why my husband is and always will be my valentine. It can be summarised pretty briefly (fortunate, considering it is 9.45pm and I have just finished work). I cannot imagine anyone else who would make life such an adventure, who would believe in me when I cannot believe in myself, and support me whole-heartedly to live my best life. I hope that in spite of the 1,340km distance between us, that he also thinks of me in the same way.

Happy Valentine's Day, gorgeous. Next year maybe you'll get some roses from the side of the road. Or a card. But if I were you, I would probably resign yourself to a lifetime of heart eating ghekkos.