VD - The Aftermath

Well, perhaps it would have been less trouble to have gone back out at 10:30pm for a card. It would have saved the (one-sided) conversation he was keen to pursue at 4:30am on his way out of the door to work, along the lines that he couldn't see a card for him, so I obviously hadn't bothered, so what was the point, and I had a go at him when he didn't buy me one last year, yadda, yadda, yadda.

I wasn't really awake enough to defend myself by pointing out that we were only 4.5 hours into VD. Give me a bloody chance. Anyway, I bought the cheapest, least foul one I could find that promised nothing about loving him forever on the way home and left it on his pillow.

Question: why did the text I received, sent from somewhere hot & glamourous, from someone holidaying with his wife, consisting of nothing more than "x x" make me so much happier than the card purchased by the man I live with, who tells me he loves me? That's pretty fucked up.