First of all, the holiday is based on a tragic story of a martyr. From Wikipedia, “St. Valentine’s Day began as a liturgical celebration of one or more early Christian saints named Valentinus. The most popular martyrology associated with Saint Valentine was that he was imprisoned for performing weddings for soldiers who were forbidden to marry and for ministering to Christians, who were persecuted under the Roman Empire; during his imprisonment, he is said to have healed the daughter of his jailer Asterius. Legend states that before his execution he wrote “from your Valentine” as a farewell to her.”
This is not exactly a story that makes me sigh or go “Awww”. History taught me how brutal the Romans acted with early Christians. In effect, when you ask someone to be your Valentine, you are asking them to undergo extreme torture and then die. Not very romantic if you ask me.
Yes, I’m going there. If you’re only buying me flowers, jewels, dinner or a card because the calendar says you should, then you don’t really love me. Millions of dollars are spent buying advertising time. “Every kiss begins with Kay.” “He went to Jared.” We all know the tag lines, and since we do, it’s probably money well spent. Buy me flowers when I’m having an bad day. Buy me jewels because you like to see me adorned. Buy me dinner because you want some alone time with me. Or don’t buy me anything, just spend some time with me because you want to, not because you should.
Never having had the pleasure of being in a relationship with a romantic man (even one who hid his tendencies in public), I must admit to feelings of envy when women around me receive bouquets of flowers, discuss their dinner reservations, or show off the jewels they received with their morning coffee. And (in my Forrest Gump voice) that’s all I have to say about that.
Unless I am attending a social event, hanging with friends and family, or out to my monthly brunch date, I am home. Alone. By choice? Not really, but I’ve done nothing about that. The on-line dating game scares me. You never know who you’re going to meet out there. I often skip wearing makeup and don’t even get me started on styling my hair. My pumps haven’t seen my feet in months and I gave away my stilettos years ago.
Have I given up on the search for romance? It would appear so, but deep down in my soul I know he is out there and one day I’m going to trip over him. After my aging Prince Charming helps me regain my balance, he is going to invite me to share a bottle of wine with him. We’re going to find things in common and we’re going to ignore how many times we’ve had our hearts broken.
Of course, he’s going to have to be special, because I am. Special, that is. Not perfect, just special.