Not a particularly special day.
It was not a particularly special day. Just another of the days that when strung together, added up to a week, a month, and if patient, a year.
She had been pretty clear about it. Today was less than special and nothing should be done to say otherwise.
She enjoyed important and special days as much as any other woman did, but today, on this calendar day, it seemed forced.
And he agreed with her. It was by most accounts, forced. Gifts given, not from the heart, but from online catalogs filled with red bows and sugar and cinnamon. Words exchanged for the sake of exchanging words. The guilt of not having given on the enumerable other special days that had been forgotten and not made special.
But this was not his reality, their reality. They hadn’t let a day go by without telling each other how they felt. Why should this day not be the same?
And so.... A few words to explain that today was for him just another day made special by her,and as such he wanted to spend it with her. Nothing over the top, just time with her, words with her to let her know her importance in his life.