I've always felt a little iffy about valentine's day; maybe it's the fact that it's another Hallmark holiday designed to sell overpriced rocks, flowers and chocolate, maybe I'm just not a fan of being reminded that I'm single. It's likely a bit of both, but that's not what I want to talk about.
Valentine's day has always felt like a proverbial double-edged sword to me; on the one hand, being single is no fun on a day when couples seem to be at their lovey-doveyest, left with nothing but a sinking feeling that there was a memo that you just didn't get when all of humanity decided to pair off. On the other, if you are indeed in a relationship, there's that weird societal pressure to pull out all the stops to show your significant other how deep your love for them goes, and if somewhere in the "surprise" gift exchange, your demonstrations of love don't seem to match in depth, you find yourself panicking on the hidden meaning of a singing stuffed bear vs. a reservation for a romantic carriage ride through one of the more scenic neighborhoods.
In some ways, I really feel worse for the couples that feel compelled to go the extra mile on an arbitrary day in February. Even the gifts that seem to emanate from the heart, such as a lovely poem composed to capture the lustrous beauty that hides deep within your beloved's eyes, or maybe a special picnic of the reddest strawberries you could possibly find to nibble on in audience of a perfect sunset that you two gaze upon in quiet contemplation of how you want this perfect feeling to go on forever, seem somehow cheapened by simply occurring on this one stupid day.
Why? Because you feel expected to? Because if you can't set a date to pull off a grand romantic gesture that your beloved will wake up from a magic spell and discover what an absolutely insensitive and self-absorbed asshat you are? You're smart, I'll vouch for that myself, because you're a rational human being. So what is that fear that keeps us up in the days leading up to February 14th?
I don't like valentine's day. Not even a little. Frankly I believe we'd all be better off without it; those that are single, and those that are lucky enough to have someone to warm the sheets with would all benefit from valentine's day simply disappearing. Think about it for just a moment, if there was no day that we felt obligated to empty our savings on a single day of blinding romance, if instead of the big, loud, flashy moments we instead had quiet, intimate moments, where two human beings could find themselves finally comfortable enough to drop the elaborate facade and let themselves be seen as they truly are, and connect on a level deeper than they themselves knew existed, if those who've yet to find that special someone could be brought to understand their singlehood not as a curse, but a small part of a grander adventure, wouldn't we be happier?
Wouldn't we feel less alone?
All arguments aside, know this; if you are alive, you are loved. And though we as logical beings crave to quantify everything so a chaotic world makes sense, love dodges that category of numbers and equations. A random day, named for a random saint, with random customs, has no bearing on how you should feel about yourself or anyone else. When it comes down to the very bare bones of it, Valentine's day is what you make of it, and it's no one's decision of how much or how little it means but your own.
And it may or may not count for much, but if you're reading this, consider it a special valentine, from one person who's view of the world may be a tad askew.
I love you, happy valentine's day.
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