58. Special Delivery

I couldn't just say "I love you, too."

I couldn't just pick of the phone and say, "I don't know why I waited to tell you this, but I LOVE YOU, TOO!"

For some reason I just felt like it should be more special than that—not over the phone, not via email. But every day when I'd drive to work or home I started imagining this horrible car wreck, where the seat belt sliced my throat and I end up with no vocal cords and paralyzed from the neck down, so I couldn't say I loved him or even send the universal "I love you" hand signal.

Or even worse, something happened to Cayden before I could tell him I loved him.

We've all been there, wishing we had said something before it was too late. Whether we lost our best friend in a tragic car accident (RIP JWM) or a family member due to terminal or sudden illness, we've all been there, wishing we'd said "I love you" one last time.

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I decided to send Cayden a care package for our 1-year-since-we-met-aversary.

"What the hell's a care package?" Cayden asked when I told him to keep an eye out for it.

I laughed at how different our cultures were.

"Oh wait, I just looked it up. It looks like people started sending care packages to soldiers in World War II."

That was my Cayden, always googling things I said.

"That's right, you're my little soldier."

Lame, I know. But I laughed at the thought of him dressed and body painted like one of those little green toy soldiers. He'd served in the Royal Air Force for six years, and I started daydreaming about what he looked like in uniform.

The day I left London, Cayden emailed me and said, "Oh, by the way. You left your bag of trail mix in my car and I devoured it! It was so delicious!"

Apparently they don't make the sweet-and-salty kind over there and he thought it was the greatest thing ever. So I bought a package and put it in his care package.

I'd brought Lifesaver Wint-o-Green mints with me as well. I handed one of them to him while I was in London and he said, "Oh my god. This tastes like New York! Well, that sounds weird. I mean, it tastes like this gum I had when I was in New York, so it just made me think of the city."

So I added Wint-o-Green Lifesaver mints and Winterfresh gum to the care package.

I had taken a bunch of photos of us together while we were in London—lying in Saint James Park, standing in front of Kensington Palace, smiling cheek-to-cheek in front of the Tower of London. I uploaded one and saved it as the background on my computer. It was from our lunch in Greenwich at the King of Arms.

"Next time we're together I'll have to take a picture to frame for my desk, because we're not allowed to upload photos on our work computers."

I went to Walgreens and printed one of each of our gag-inducing, adorable photos and a black wooden picture frame. I picked my favorite photo and put it in the front of the frame, with the rest of the photos behind it.

Two weeks after I returned from London I was eating Chinese food and my fortune cookie said, "Others can sense your radiance. Share your happiness." I looked around to see if someone had planted it there. It was just too perfect. I felt like I was walking around with a giant neon sign that said, "I'm in love! Just ask me about it!"

I mean, even the UPS guy noticed.

I wanted to tell everyone.

I used Scotch tape to secure the fortune to the back of the photo frame stand.

Using my handy-dandy car keys, I added a carved inscription to the back of the frame: "I love you, too!!"

I threw it all in a box with a card that said, "One year ago today, I kicked a boy's ass at the bar, and it was the best decision EVER."

it took nearly two weeks for the care package to reach him, three days after our one-year. I watched him open the package two days ago on webcam. He had a webcam but I didn't, so he couldn't see me. Good thing, because I was gripping the table so hard my fingernails were threatening to bend backwards when he turned the photo frame around...