I’ve never been a fan of long stemmed roses, Hallmark cards, Pepto-Bismal pink, or institutionalized sentimentality.
And this has proved to be a problem in more than one relationship. The men I’ve known have always been gooey marshmallows when it comes to Valentine’s Day. Yes, yes, opposites attract.
I believe in love, indeed I do, but mandated romance and gaudy displays of affection embarrass me. One boyfriend used to have funeral-sized flower arrangements delivered to my desk at work. What innocent bystander did he think this would impress – Steve in Human Resources, Cathy in Accounting? I couldn’t stick pins in the Forever balloons fast enough.
Then there was this one chap I married. Thinking we were kindred spirits, I didn’t buy him anything when our first Valentine’s Day rolled around. That was the first big Oops in a never-ending series of miscalculations.
I'm not overtly sentimental, this is true. I'm the spawn of those who celebrated major holidays by the giving and receiving of new household appliances. Good stuff was saved for the off-season. As a just-because.
Certainly, my ambivalence towards the holiest of love-days has enrolled me in a very exclusive club. So exclusive, I don't think I've met a single member, but we're out there somewhere, I'm sure. Getting flowers and chocolate, when what we really wanted was a staple gun or a ladder
This makes me sound like an ungrateful shit, and I expect I am. Here’s my favorite love song; take a listen.
If the two of you feel the same, who needs anything else? And if only one of you feels the same, then even a perfect rose won't make the slightest bit of difference. You can trust me on that.
Some more, but not much more, and slightly different but not very, on Patch.