Valentine's Day is a week from today. How do I react to that?
The Valentine agnostic in me flares up right about now - a couple years ago I actually wrote a story called "St. Valentine's Day Massacre" in honor of February 14th. True, there were no boys whose hand I could hold, but that's besides the point. I still firmly believe that Hallmark got really lucky while creating holidays during one of their brainstorming sessions in Sappiness, USA, and being with Dave hasn't changed that...but something I thought I had stomped out of my being several years back is timidly showing its face again, to my utter disbelief. Something suggesting that having a boy for Valentine's day this year might be nice.
But this small thing showing its face is dangerously close to being trampled again. I point-blank REFUSE to get any romantic notions about that day. I don't want them. First off, I don't want to make it a habit to make stuff like this all ooshy-gooshy and lose sight of what makes love real and important. And second...high hopes for romance with a boy like Dave is foolish to say the least. He's a little too laid back and straight-forward and unpracticed in romantic creativity to ask for alot. And I'm not going to and I don't want to - overloading the holiday would make me feel uncomfortable cuz I'm just not that kind of gal.
I don't want a candlelit dinner while wearing pink frills staring across the table at Mr. Right. I don't want an expensive dinner and oodles of mush and money dumped on me. I don't want a diamond ring or a moonlit walk by the ocean.
I want to wear a favorite comfortable skirt. I want to get my fingers sticky eating ribs and salty from steak fries. I want a modest bouquet of non-rose flowers to remind me that he didn't forget. I want to split a milkshake as a treat. I don't want a steretypical evening/day/afternoon, something I could script in all its formality and pomp, but something more fun and gentle and personal.
And I don't want a Mr. Right opposite the table from me. I just want Dave.
The Valentine agnostic in me flares up right about now - a couple years ago I actually wrote a story called "St. Valentine's Day Massacre" in honor of February 14th. True, there were no boys whose hand I could hold, but that's besides the point. I still firmly believe that Hallmark got really lucky while creating holidays during one of their brainstorming sessions in Sappiness, USA, and being with Dave hasn't changed that...but something I thought I had stomped out of my being several years back is timidly showing its face again, to my utter disbelief. Something suggesting that having a boy for Valentine's day this year might be nice.
But this small thing showing its face is dangerously close to being trampled again. I point-blank REFUSE to get any romantic notions about that day. I don't want them. First off, I don't want to make it a habit to make stuff like this all ooshy-gooshy and lose sight of what makes love real and important. And second...high hopes for romance with a boy like Dave is foolish to say the least. He's a little too laid back and straight-forward and unpracticed in romantic creativity to ask for alot. And I'm not going to and I don't want to - overloading the holiday would make me feel uncomfortable cuz I'm just not that kind of gal.
I don't want a candlelit dinner while wearing pink frills staring across the table at Mr. Right. I don't want an expensive dinner and oodles of mush and money dumped on me. I don't want a diamond ring or a moonlit walk by the ocean.
I want to wear a favorite comfortable skirt. I want to get my fingers sticky eating ribs and salty from steak fries. I want a modest bouquet of non-rose flowers to remind me that he didn't forget. I want to split a milkshake as a treat. I don't want a steretypical evening/day/afternoon, something I could script in all its formality and pomp, but something more fun and gentle and personal.
And I don't want a Mr. Right opposite the table from me. I just want Dave.
Comments