I can’t remember the last time my husband gave me something for Valentine’s Day. But I remember all the weekends he’s let me sleep through while he does all the chores because he knows I’ve had a rough week. I remember all the little things he’s changed about his lifestyle to accommodate my OCD and assorted quirks. I remember that he skipped boys’ night out to rescue my younger brothers when their car broke down. I remember all the hours of traffic he’s braved to bring me somewhere so I wouldn’t have to commute or drive. I remember how he’s never asked anything of me and is just happy to be with me. In the five years we’ve been together he’s never given me flowers or a traditionally romantic gift. And I still feel like the luckiest girl in the world.