You know that girl who hates Valentine’s Day because she doesn’t have a movie-version of love in her life? Yeah, that was me.
Love is tricky. The word covers so many possible definitions. I love my family. I love my socks. I love foxes. As humans, we are prone to imposing conditions on love. However, conditional love can come at too high a cost — it’s exhausting. Is it possible to keep loving someone who always gives “love” based on conditions? If perfection is a requirement, can anyone achieve that? Is it even really love?
Valentine’s Day was a day that came around and reminded me that I considered love to be gifts, chocolate and candy. I’m obsessed with cinnamon hearts and February is the only time I can get them. But he hated cinnamon hearts, wouldn’t be near me even if he just smelt them. (Perhaps, that is why I loved those spicy hearts so much…) Let’s be honest, his idea of love was getting gifts from me, minus the reciprocation. Oh, and just to be clear, I’m talking about my ex.
Most February 14th I was left disappointed. I had too high of expectations. Come on, candy and a card? That’s asking a lot. At least we would go for dinner. Since cooking is my least favourite thing, I couldn’t complain about having a night off. (And who am I kidding? I still avoided making food like a terrible chore.) The restaurant would always be a surprise, since it was wherever he felt like eating at the time. He was really sweet to remember how much I love surprises.
The first year we were married, he bought me something I hinted at so strongly that he got the picture (after I texted it to him).
Another time I remember him buying me something, he came to my university — which he had never been to before — with carnations and a stuffed dog. He dressed up in a fancy outfit of grey pants, white collared shirt, vest and a tie. He presented the gift in front of my class — while we were all eating lunch — and announced the reason he got me a stuffed dog was because he wanted to buy me a real one, but we didn’t have the money. Awwww… I had always wanted a dog. At this moment it finally felt like he cared about something I cared about. The catch? It was in front of a bunch of people; a grand gesture requires an audience after all.
I must admit I’m a stuffed animal freak. However, when I recieved this particular one, I wanted to throw him out the window. And by ‘him’, I meant my ex. But since that wasn’t possible, that stuffed dog was the first thing to burn in the post-breakup bonfire. Because bonfires are the only logical thing for a city girl to do after a divorce.
Really it was silly of me to expect a gift unless I was proactive enough to piss him off on February 13th. Since gifts were reserved for apologizes and lulling one into a false sense of security. And being the person I am, I believed him. Every time. Presents never came without a price tag, a literal one or one of those figurative ones that you are not sure what the expectations are, but they seem to never end.
I started to buy myself my own gifts, which then just made him lazier. He didn’t even have to pretend to make an effort. Once I bought myself this really pretty silver necklace. It was reminiscent of that one Christmas, he bought me a green dollar store beaded bracelet. For this particular Valentine’s Day, I told him the necklace was what he bought me. I wore it as a token of appreciation for myself. He agreed, Sure, I bought it for you. The next day, we were hanging out with friends and I showed my friend, Here’s the necklace he bought me. He said, “No, I didn’t buy that for you. You bought it and said it was from me.” I felt so special in that moment and it made me wonder why I wasn’t always telling the truth. It was far more romantic!
In terms of love, I had a twisted version of it in my head. After hearing “I love you” over and over and over again, without actions that matched, it lost all meaning for me. Saying I love you meant yes I am still in this relationship, for now.
Since I’ve left that behind, I see how I don’t want a movie version of love and romance. Rom-coms typically have way too much stalker-crazy-no-one-should-do-that scenes. And movies are a pale and unrealistic comparison to what it’s actually like to be in love.
If you’ve been betrayed, heart broken, lonely — holidays even as small as Valentine’s Day are a reminder of things lost, of disappointment, of lack.
But they don’t have to be. I’m reflecting on my past February 14ths (and how wonderful they weren’t) to remind myself that something I hated before, I don’t have to hate anymore. (Yes, that rhymed).
Today is — dare I say it — a lovely day once more!
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