Valentine’s Day is here and I can’t help thinking about my nonexistent “love life”. I’m19 years old and I have not yet experienced my so-called first love or even my first kiss.As a matter of fact, I’ve never been on a date (which is not to say that I’ve never beenasked). As I prepare for what will surely be a whirlwind of so-called romance around meand my single self, I can’t help but think back on the past 18 Iterations of the heartshaped holiday and how I observed it.
Kindergarten: the 1st time I recognize the holiday, thanks to school-mandated homeroom parties, in which each student brings a valentine for each student in his orher class. At that time I had a crush and no word for the feeling. The elementary yearsprogress in the same manner, only now I know the word for the feeling is crush, not thatI do anything with the feeling or the knowledge on Valentine’s day, though I did senda few little “love letters” without occasion. Onto middle school (aka junior high). Ifyou’re lucky some teachers will take notice of the no- longer important (as deemed byschool) holiday and hand out candy. I come to understand a new word that is perhapsmore helpful than “crush”: hormones. Girls my age start having boyfriends and comeValentine’s Day they find cute little notes in their lockers and walk around with littlestuffed animals and boxes of chocolates. They talk about dates they plan to go on,where their parents will tag along to supervise (the horror). High school comes andgoes - 4 years of dances my parents will not allow me to attend (they assure me I am notmissing out on anything). By this point we have had “the talk”, which was not terriblyinformative. Nonetheless, high school proves to be very informative in this regard.Students speak openly of scandalous topics like so-and-so losing her virginity last nightand the meaning of certain words that I do not particularly care to soil this page with. Inthe event that it falls on a school day rather than a weekend (which always seems tobe the case), Valentine’s Day is comprised of scantily clad girls and girls who are justplain overdressed for an ordinary school day. In a letter from my dear friend, sheexpresses her mild jealously of the girls walking around with oversized teddy bears they can barely manage to tote around and can’t possibly fit in their lockers, along with variously colored bouquets of flowers (mostly roses and carnations) andbags with overpriced chocolate and other overpriced gifts (bracelets and necklaces he’llwish he could take back after the breakup that will later ensue). I do receive a fewvalentines, all from friends, mostly those little cards you handed out in elementaryschool. We exchange these because it’s cute and it makes us feel all warm and fuzzy inside. One year out of the 4 high school years stands out in my memory. Perhaps morevividly than any other Valentine’s Day I’ve experienced so far.
Rushing though the halls on Valentine’s Day morning I passed a girl who held alovely large bouquet of white roses. She was tall and beautiful, such that she stood outin a crowd. In fact I had seen her before and often wondered who she was and whereshe was from. What with it being a day of love, I smiled at her and commented on herlarge bouquet, inquiring about what “gentleman” might have chosen such a lovelybouquet for her. She explained to me that she had purchased them herself so that shecould share them with others and proceeded to offer me one. I had never before andhave not since received a rose on Valentine’s Day. It was from this kind act that ourfriendship blossomed.
Looking back on all this, I find it interesting to see how its significance and meaning have transformed for me. I think about how I shall chose to observe theupcoming “romantic holiday” and decide that it isn’t terribly romantic after all. Asevery good and true hopeless romantic (especially the single ones) comes to say atsome point, “True love is expressed every single day in all the small gestures of the yearand romance needs no holiday to manifest itself. Mind you, hopeless romantics like myself, are still dreamers with sappy-sometimes-unrealistic ideals. When Valentinecomes at the point in my life where I am in a relationship, I may still observe theholiday as though it were special, but in truth it’s meaning for me will never beabout romance, so much as expressed romantically to my prince charming.
In the meantime I plan to celebrate the day the way I used to, with small childish cardsintended to warm our fuzzy little hearts and make us smile. My expression of that whichwe so loosely refer to as love needs not be romantic at all. It will be expressed to friends and family and to complete strangers. It will be my silent (or maybe even notso silent . . .) way of singing to this world that all we need is love love love. Love is all we need.P.S.If you liked the song, check out this album:
Love Actually (Soundtrack)