The first year Gregg and I were together, I made his favorite meal and gave him a Valentine’s card. He scarfed down his food, opened the card, skimmed it, then pitched it in the garbage before announcing he’d had a rough day and was going to bed early.

That was the first of many rules I learned in our relationship and I never gave him another Valentine’s card.

The first year Michael and I were together, he sent me a Valentine’s card with a simple inscription:

Come spend the day with me and let me show you how good we can be together.

I felt both surprise (I’d never gotten a Valentine’s card before) and guilt (I hadn’t gotten a card for him based on my previous experiences with Gregg).

The second year Michael and I were together, I got him a card and a teeny tiny box of his favorite chocolates (he was on a diet). He took one look at the card and pitched it on the desk.

“Please tell me we aren’t going to fall into those preconceived bullshit notions of what’s expected of us.”

“Nope,” I replied, completely unsure of what line I had just crossed.

The lesson I learned from all this? When it comes to men, forget the sentimental stuff — just drop to your knees and let them blow a load of peckersnot on your tonsils. Dispensing a good face fuck is all they really need to know you care. (And from the conversations I’ve heard in the breakroom at work, I’m pretty sure this goes for straight men too.)
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Now stay tuned for a bonus post!