I want to be your Valentine. That’s right: you. You right there standing in those sexy knee-high socks and bottle-lens glasses. I want to buy you roses and then spritz cologne on the petals so that when you smell the same cologne on me, you’ll whisper, “You smell like a rose.”
I am willing to be whatever sort of Valentine you wish. Sappy or strong romantic. Brusque or Ryan Gosling. Anything. We’ll dance around the kitchen like an awkward couple at Prom who will not hook up tonight.
I want to be your Valentine, your saint Valentine. I want archers to line the walls and plunge arrows into my chest. They’ll zip through my ribs and I’ll fall like the good saint in the name of love. Me, the human target. Me, the unconventional tragic hero.
Until a few minutes ago, I forgot that Valentine’s Day will fall on tomorrow. A Tuesday, the least romantic but most sexy day of the week. Maybe it’s because I don’t need to buy a present or stupid flowers or those disgusting chocolates that we still buy because hey, this huge box of nasty chocolates is on sale.
Now, plenty of people will tell you that Valentine’s Day is stupid and awful. That a real man would show love to his woman every day of the year. While I partially agree with those opponents, I actually like Valentine’s Day. Sure, we should always show each other love. But in the rush and bustle of life, we forget to appreciate the little things. Like getting flowers and getting dressed up for a nice dinner. Waiting in line outside a restaurant for an hour while singing Broadway tunes (Or is that only me?)
It’s nice that on a single day, all the couples come together and kiss and say, “I love you.” It’s not so much a forced-upon holiday as a
tribute to love. Sure, flower companies, chocolate companies, and the companies that produce those pink teddy bears with heart messages have capitalized on the commercialized view of love. But what’s so wrong about giving praise to the greatest thing in life? Love.
I think it’s nice to be reminded that there is true love in the world. Even if 50% of American couples get divorced, we’re allowed to know that there are some lucky few who make it through. Some grow old together, grow cute and wrinkled and senile together. Have adventures after retirement and still kiss every chance they get. Call me a softie or call me a pansy or say that I’ve bought into the financial rat race inspired by Valentine’s Day, but I enjoy it.
Maybe we DO, as couples in general, need to show each other love more often. Be romantic, be spontaneous. And there is nothing spontaneous about going out on a particular day, but it reminds you to do those things. Reminds us that there is someone there for us, if there is indeed. Perhaps the day isn’t simply a celebration of you and your partner. It’s a celebration of love, of that end-all be-all relationship for which we all strive to be in. Don’t be downtrodden or pessimistic. Celebrate!