A few hours ago while eating dinner in our office pantry I chanced upon an officemate attaching a card to a box of cake as a gift to her boyfriend. Bewildered, I asked what the occasion was. Instead of answering my question she berated me that that’s what happens to people who become cynical and forget all about Valentine’s Day. Or in her case, pre-Valentine’s Day date. That made me pause & think, have I really become a cynic?
I always had this question in mind — What makes February 14 so special? Is it because it is the day to celebrate that one is so blissfully in love? Lucky are those who have significant others. But how about those who are single and available – by choice or otherwise? Is this the day then to think and mourn of failed relationships? Of failed courtships? Of unrequited loves? Of thinking you’ve reached that age when society starts to pressure you to settle down and start a family?
As for me I refuse to entertain such thoughts or be pressured to go out on a date and finally change my friendster status from single to “In a Relationship”. I will treat V day as any other ordinary day. I will work the required 8 hours, go home, and watch American Idol on TV or The Last King of Scotland on DVD or read a chapter or two of Christopher Paolini’s Eldest.
While I do those things, I bet that couples are getting into a big fight and call it quits. Or a woman gets pregnant after an unsafe and less than spectacular sex. Or a wife catches her husband in the horizontal (or vertical?) sexual act and shoots him and his mistress with a machine gun.
I guess the reason I’m ranting is because Valentine’s Day would always be associated with my first real and failed relationship. It was on the V day four years ago that we became us. Two mutual feelings shared for the first time on a cold and breezy February evening.
It was a night to remember. The thing she did that night was probably the sweetest thing a girl has ever done for me. It was a great feeling to feel so wanted.. and so loved. The relationship didn’t last long. It was too fast. Too soon. It felt like we needed to get on the freight train lest we be left behind.
As I look back at those days I wished I did things differently. If I did, we might have lasted more than the months we were officially together. We would have built happy memories together. We would have worked hard to reach our dreams. And I probably won’t be so bitter now. And cynical…