During the length of a relationship, Valentine’s Day goes through a whole rollercoaster course of changes.
I mean really, Valentine’s Day was born for young love. Sweet, innocent love. It is the day for Hope, or Heartache… Hope to find your love requited… and Heartache if your love goes elsewhere.
For the rest of us committed, long-term couple types?
It starts to become a bit ‘meh.’
I had this discussion with Hubbie last night.
“Valentine’s Day is bullshit! Why should I buy you flowers because a commercial day is telling me to? I want to get you flowers when I want to.”
Even being a woman and all… I actually agreed with him.
The story of this romantic day is based on a patron-saint… who we can only guess at, as there were a few Valentine/Valentinus’, all who were martyred – that is, murdered over their beliefs. The general story, which is oddly identical between Valentine’s, is that this saint performed secret weddings against the authorities, saved a girl from an affliction like blindness somewhere in between, and in his final moments was tortured and killed.
There is no definite closure to the story’s origins, and the more romantic part of the holiday perhaps is due to the old Roman holiday which used to be held in February, a sexy holiday as it were, where women would write their names on clay tablets and they would be drawn by men to form random couplings (Gasp!)
The day has grown into the commercial entity that it is today. You buy a card, flowers, chocolate and candy. You make grand plans for the day.
But it ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.
I know I know. I’m sounding like an unromantic old hag. Trust me I’m not. I wanted Valentine’s Day to work for me, sooo bad, for YEARS.
But each year, it was a bitter disappointment.
Hubbie and I would argue.
We’d go out to dinner, and the food would be mediocre.
One of us were working that day.
And on and on and on it would go.
Only when I let go of the idea of the perfect romantic holiday, did I start to have fun.
Sure, there was that one year after we married where Hubbie surprised me with a city tram restaurant ride… and in recent years we’ve introduced our good ol’ mate Moet onto the scene, and he makes Valentine’s Day very entertaining.
But none of that is even the point. Because going back to what Hubbie said…
If he is only going to buy me flowers because a calendar reminded him to, well that is shit if you ask me.
I’d rather he get me flowers because he wants to. Because he wants to cheer me up. Something has reminded him of me that day and he thought to surprise me.
I will not lie. I am a woman after all. I will accept all the flowers and cards.
ALL DAY EVERY DAY.
But, at this stage of life?
Even I am getting a bit ‘meh.’
What is the point, if HIS thought, isn’t in it?
So today. (You are wondering aren’t you…)
We got each other cards. I am a writing kinda gal, so if I don’t give a card and he doesn’t give me one, that means we don’t have hands or something. That has to happen. It’s nice. It’s sweet.
DA DA DA!
He did get me A flower. Which was more than enough. There was something else however, that touched me more, meant more to me than any rose he could have picked for me…
He got a flower for baby girl too.
And that my friends, is the best Valentine’s Day present to me, EVER.
Do you know why? Because the expectation was for him to get something for me… and he went further, and got something special, for HER.