My Valentine's Day
Before I got into a relationship I felt that Valentine's Day was foolish. I don't know exactly why and couldn't explain to anyone why I felt this way. I suspect it was because I was too chicken to believe in love. When I got into a relationship, the Day started feeling sentimental. But I could not persuade my boyfriend into thinking it so, especially since he knew that I, too, thought it silly once. This past Valentine's day found me a couple of months out of a relationship and with fewer friends. It felt lonely.
The suspicion that I am romantic has been with me for a long time now, it is just recently that I have decided to not be ashamed about being so. I don't remember ever feeling lonely on Valentine's Day, or ever admitting to myself about feeling that way. It took me by surprise (I'm writing this here because I often share my happy thoughts, but I am not always happy, or cheerful and I believe this is very okay). I learned very early that complaining is a waste of time, you either do something or you suck it up; same goes for pity-parties. So I thought I would be my own Valentine (since the rest of my family believe that the day is a load of sentimental nonsense, and they wouldn't appreciate me forcing my new perspective down their throats). I got myself out of bed late, rushed to the groceries and got myself a huge tub of yogurt (my second this month), the three berries, and the most expensive granola I've ever bought (it was worth every penny), but I forgot the honey! Apart from the strawberries being terrible (threw the whole thing out), I was mostly happy with my breakfast and proud of why I was doing it. I am extremely fond of yogurt but I have stayed away because it is bad for my face (dairy = acne). When I checked my messages, I found an insightful message from an Etsy friend and later a simple uplifting Valentine's Day greeting from a client. These messages made me feel beautiful things.
On my walk to work, I saw a man holding fast onto a ridiculous amount of heart-shaped red balloons--it got extremely windy for a minute and a balloon escaped--I smiled in approval. Right before I got to work, it started drizzling a little: the sun was shining very prettily for a winter day, and the mixture of light and water in the air; the reflection of light on the still white snow (left by the snowstorm from the day before) was breathtaking. It was sweet, magical. At work a girl walked in with a gigantic stuffed bear and I loved how cheesy it was; later a man walked in with flowers and wanted to buy a jacket for dinner; then a teenage boy wanted help with a pair of pants, again for dinner (I work part-time in a little retail store in a big mall). The girl who was supposed to replace me called out sick, and I agreed to take her shift; suspecting that she had plans. Someone brought cookies for everyone, later someone shared donuts, and the whole time the store's music was most befitting.
Walking home a little after 11pm, I saw a group of young people dressed up for the night. This made me happy because I felt they shared my sentiments for the day. I looked up and noticed the moon was full and I almost cried (it is very likely that I have lost all my marbles but I've a serious something for full moons). The sky was the most beautiful shade of inky blue I had seen in a while, and the weather was pretty nice. Not as cold as it had been for a while here in NYC. It felt like my first real Valentine's Day. It was bittersweet and perfect. I was very full of romantic sentiments and not at all apologetic for any bit of it. I saw beautiful things and felt beautiful things. It felt like life was my Valentine.
Have a beautiful day,