Thoughts on 14 February
For most of my life, this holiday has lingered above me like a grey cloud waiting to burst open and piss down rain at any moment. I’ve never liked Valentines Day. This goes beyond my lifelong general dislike of all things pink (which over recent years has faded). It is deeper than my loathing for the corporate scheme that is everything cupid related. I could even go as far as to say it’s more than just my inability to understand why we celebrate a martyred saint with roses and big red smiley hearts. I dislike Valentines Day because it’s a blatant slap in the face to everyone out there who doesn’t have anyone.
Do we honestly need a day to remind people that they are alone?
Every year, as New Years passes and we come around into the weeks leading up to that horrid holiday filled with chocolates and gooeyness, I cringe. I usually try to ignore it, but it’s everywhere. Cards, balloons, hallmark greetings chasing after me at every turn. Even the years I had someone to “share” the day with, it was enough to make me want to lock myself away for a few weeks and hope February passed without knocking on my door.
In my past experience, Valentines Day was nothing but a reminder that: a. I’m alone, or b. My relationship is failing. In the past, exes only brought me flowers when they’d done something to hurt me. I only received cards on holidays when I reminded them. This usually came in the form of my giving them a card, them getting that old “oh shit, I forgot” look, and three hours later being “surprised” with my card…and a flower. With that, flowers took on a negative connotation, and eventually I stopped buying cards.
Of course, I am not alone in these circumstances. Many a friend has shared the same disappointment, the same let down.
Valentines Day is never what we have been told it’s supposed to be.
And that aside, why should there only be one day set aside for people who do have someone to express how they feel? We do not need the assistance of the big corporate monster to show our love for others, nor should it be limited to a single day that is set up by powers out of our control. We should show and tell the people we love that we love them every day. Not just 14 February.
So now we have left 2004, and started 2005. The stores are filling up with those smiling naked cherubs, those huge tacky hearts. All there to reassure us that this is the day it’s ok to tell someone we love them. This is the day that it’s not ok to be alone.
Every time I walk through the city centre, I feel that familiar feeling of wanting to run off and hide. Perhaps curl up in pyjamas with my favourite group of girl friends and a couple bottles of wine and watch Sex and the City. Again, we of the female sorts start our moaning, our cringing, our hoping we can get through the next month without too many kicks to the groin, as it were.
Maybe someday it will be different. Maybe someday we’ll learn to ignore it.
Whatever happens, one thing is for certain: It will not just disappear.