Valentine Schmalentine

Valentines Day? [face palm]. I love love. Love clearly doesn't love me. As cynical as I sound, I am not at all repulsed to the idea of people celebrating love. Love is a beautiful thing and ought to be celebrated. I am just disgusted by the cheesy commercialized feeling which Valentine’s Day represents, and share the opinion of the nauseated that it ought to be called National Single Awareness Day.

If you have been following my story, Valentine’s Day has been a difficult day for me. It was the day when I agreed to marry the man. It was the day I did so. It was the day that went uncelebrated years later because other things were more important than I was. After we broke up, it was the day that I looked forward to spending with whomever was in my life at the time. Sadly, whomever was in my life did not see the day fit to spend with me. I remember the anxiety I felt leading up to the day. Worrying that I would not receive so much as a phone call, and acknowledgment. Even though the Latino I was seeing last year did call me, I felt it was the middle of the end for us. The year before, the Craigslist Guy, who has done guest appearances recently, called things off right before so we did not even get to that point. The depression I felt was just awful. I really did not feel like myself and it took months for me to snap out of it.

This year is so different. I actually have a pick of men I could spend the day with, if I chose to. But I choose not to. It’s just a day.   I do not want attention, affection, and love on just one day. I want him to prove to me that he loves me every day.  I think I am past the past. I am past needing to feel loved. I am past the stereotypical romance, wining and dining, and yes, even the sex.  I love me. And I worry that I will never find another man who can love me more than me. Another man who I could love more than myself.

At this point in time, I am taking each and every relationship I have at face value, appreciating what positive aspects each of them have to offer, and nurturing the ones that seem to have long term potential. What is a day with red, hearts, candy, and all the activities that are supposed to follow? I won’t allow it to turn me into Desperate Debbie and define me and how I feel about my worthiness of real love. And I hope if you are single, you won’t too.