Valentine's Day was a regular Friday in my house. I know that sounds unromantic, but it's actually just the way I like it. Although I've had a boyfriend on all but one of the last 10 V-Days, I've never much cared for the forced sentiment of a pre-printed Hallmark card, the crowds of couples vying for restaurant real estate in any place that hasn't been booked for six months and those teeny, tiny heart-shaped confetti that get everywhere. (The only thing I really like about it, to be honest, is the conversation hearts.)
What I get the other 364 days out of the year is much greater than anything that can be wrapped in a heart-shaped box.
I get a man who cooks almost every night. Full disclosure, I once created a gelatinous mass thick enough to prop up a cracker while attempting to heat canned soup, so that one may be more out of necessity. He's more apt to show his love with a stir-fry than he is to gush about it in a card. That's okay. I really like to eat.
I get a man who shows up when it's important to me. Valentine's Day isn't one of those days, so that energy and funding gets diverted into other things. One year for my birthday he materialized on my porch with an orchid, two kinds of cake and a sheepish grin at 8 a.m. Birthdays are one of those important holidays to me, and every year he makes it a point to call at midnight if we're apart so he can be the first person to wish me a happy one. Last year, I was half a world away in Versailles, France and he still called as soon as his clock struck 12.
I get a man who is more of a partner than a knight in shining armor. The knight looks really good on paper, and I can see why there's a whole day devoted to being swept off your feet in a fit of passion. But for longevity, my money's on the guy who is an unscheduled romantic, who supports my dreams and believes I can take care of myself, and who will clean up after our beloved feline when he gets sick at 2 a.m. without complaint.
But until they make an “I love you for cleaning up the cat vomit” Hallmark card, I'm sticking to my guns on this V-Day thing. Just leave me a few of those conversation hearts, will ya?
