“So what d’you want to do?” I just decided to ask since it was the week before Valentine’s Day. Things are different now that we’ve been through eight of them together, and I figured it would just be easier to discuss something that we would both enjoy. Let’s face it, neither of us were ever really good with the whole surprise date thing. I curled my toes into your side and relaxed my head on the sofa cushion.
You turned to me with an easy grin and shrugged, “Whatever you want to do.”
Your lack of preferences always drives me crazy, especially when it turns out that you actually do have them; it just takes about an hour-long discussion to pull them out of you. I was glad that this time around we were able to reach an agreement quickly. It does seem to get easier the longer we’re together; sharing an intense dislike for clichés and fancy dinners helps, too.
“I think I want to see more waves in the ocean than in the air,” was my lame attempt to wax poetic, and you were kind enough to accept it without comment. I love you for those considerations.
“So that’s what we’ll do,” you said softly while pulling out your phone to do a quick search and a check on the weather. “How about Monterey?”