the anti-romantic

Since Valentine’s Day is rolling around soon, I thought I would share my feelings with you regarding this popular holiday.  I thought that videotaping myself hurling would be an accurate description, but I haven’t thrown up since Christmas, so I am resigned to use words instead.
I do not like Valentine’s Day.  I think it is icky.  Think about it: crappy candy and obscenely prolific pink.  What’s not to hurl about?  Trite expressions of love written by greeting card companies are supposed to convey our true feelings to the people we care for, or just to whomever will consent to be our beloved for a day in a mutual desire to stave off loneliness during a holiday exclusively for twos.
Do I sound like a woman scorned?  Well, I’m not.  Truth be told, I have never been in love.  I’m told that when I finally am in love, all the mushy-gushy stuff I sneer at now will seem terribly romantic and exciting.  Still, I don’t think I will embrace teddy bears with hearts, want candy hearts, or anything with hearts for that matter (I really don’t like hearts), and I’m fairly certain I’ll still hate pink and dislike Titanic.  However, I doubt this will be a problem.  When trivialities are removed, truth is allowed to stand starkly in full view, no longer cluttered or obscured by additions.  Love will be allowed to be love when it has shed trite expressions or poor imitations.  That, I can look forward to.
Meanwhile, the singles are looking, or at least hoping and wishing for a perfect Valentine to appear within the week.  Couples will make reservations at expensive restaurants and buy each other expensive trinkets.  Third-graders will make Valentine shoeboxes, which actually is pretty cute.  And I have good news.  Next Saturday night I’ll be with the ones I love the most: my parents.  I’ll take good old familial love over the Feb 14 scramble any day.  Particularly if they are going to drive 200 miles just to see me and to bring the things I forgot last time I was home (I need to send them that list…). I don’t know how this ended up as a tribute to my parents, but when I start writing I rarely know where I will end, so: Be My Valentines, Mom and Dad?

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