The Love Language Revelation: Quality Time with a Glass of Veuve Clicquot

That One Summer I Dated "Gift Card Guy"

Have you ever been in the middle of a lavish dinner, the kind where the bubbles in your champagne flute dance with every flicker of the candlelight, and suddenly realize you’re completely alone? Well, not physically alone, but emotionally stranded on an island where the only thing keeping you warm is the thought of what could be if only your date were actually there.

That was me in the fall of 2020. Let's just say it was the year of revelations—and not just about the world, but about myself and what I truly needed from a relationship. It all started when I found myself single after ending a ten-year relationship. You know, that kind of breakup that leaves you questioning everything, even your favorite ice cream flavor.

Enter "The Gift Card Guy." A familiar face from my childhood who, like me, had just exited a long-term relationship. We were both seasoned in the art of late-night work emails and last-minute meetings—our careers being the mistresses we couldn't leave. Both of us started an LLC as the result of our breakups. Heartbreak meant hustle harder, right? But as much as we glorified our demanding schedules, there was an unspoken loneliness that only those who have buried themselves in their work can truly understand.

When we reconnected, it felt... easy. Too easy, perhaps. The transition from childhood friends to something more was smooth. We communicated often, but rarely did our schedules align for actual face-to-face time. When he did have time, it often came with a price—a canceled date, followed by a gift card sent electronically with a sweet message encouraging me to "enjoy myself."

I wanted to enjoy myself. Truly, I did. And who wouldn’t be charmed by a bottle of Veuve Clicquot delivered to their doorstep? It’s the kind of thing Carrie Bradshaw might gush about over brunch with the girls. But what I learned through these exchanges is that I wasn’t looking for material generosity. I was yearning for something much more intimate—a connection, built not through gifts, but through experiences shared together.

For a long time, I didn’t know what my love language was. I mean, who really knows until they find themselves in a situation that demands clarity? But as time went by and our "relationship" became increasingly virtual, I realized that what I craved most was quality time. Not just any time, but time spent creating new experiences. It’s those moments, the ones where you’re discovering something new about the world and about each other, that really make your heart beat faster. It turns out, that’s because new experiences release oxytocin, the "love hormone"—the glue that binds you to another person.

I needed the glue. Not the glitter.

The more gift cards I received, the more I felt a disconnect. His generosity was never in question, but our time together was always in doubt. Each gift became a reminder that while he was investing in things, he wasn’t investing in us. The more I unpacked this, the more I realized that my primary love language was quality time. Gifts are nice, sure, but they can’t replace the intimacy of shared experiences, the kind that deepen your understanding of one another.

And this is where my best friend Nicole comes in—my guardian angel of gift card redemption. She was always there, ready to step in and help me “enjoy myself” with those gifts when he couldn’t. Whether it was a dinner that was supposed to be for two or a bottle to enjoy Nicole made sure those experiences didn’t go to waste. Honestly, she was the real MVP of that relationship. To this day, she still brings up those experiences, and we laugh about it now. I guess, in a way, she benefited the most from my situation. I’m thankful we can laugh about it now.

It became clear that I was looking for someone who could put the laptop away and say, "Let's do something together." Someone who values being present over just being generous. The Gift Card Guy and I eventually drifted apart—not out of anger or resentment, but because we spoke different love languages that neither of us could fluently understand.

Looking back, I'm grateful for that time. It taught me what I truly need from a partner—a love that's present, engaged, and ready to explore the world hand in hand. The Veuve Clicquot was lovely, but it was the connection I was really thirsting for.

So, here’s to finding someone who understands the importance of quality time. Someone who knows that the best gifts can’t be delivered—they’re created in the moments you spend together.

I hope this resonates with anyone who’s ever felt that longing for more than what material gestures can provide. Your love language is a map to what you need most in a relationship, and once you discover it, don’t settle for less.

Cheers to discovering yours, and to the beautiful, new experiences that await you.

With love, lessons learned, and a special shoutout to Nicole,

Kim