Valentines, Shmalentines.

       


            I love Valentines Day!  Love it!  Also I love doing taxes, being on diets and shoving hot pokers in my eyeballs. I especially want to gouge out my retinas when I get on Facebook and read all the super romantic posts of my friends and how much they are enjoying their flowers, boxes of chocolate and love notes from their husbands.  I want them all to die. DIE!  Is that wrong?

           Now please understand, I know my husband loves me dearly, and I love him too, but honestly, would it kill him to pick up a fucking card at CVS and, uh, I dunno, WRITE DOWN SOME WORDS ON IT?  Is that too much to ask?  His version of romantic Valentines is gazing at me lovingly and saying, "What's for dinner?" or my personal favorite, "We don't have to go out and do anything for Valentines Day, do we?"

          Valentines to him is just another day.  In the beginning of our relationship I tried to be the cool girlfriend who didn't care about this day, "Yeah!  Valentines Day is stupid!  We love each other EVERY DAY, we don't need to prove ourselves to anyone!"  Then a few years went by and I pretended to be happy for all those people holding hands and planning their romantic dinners out while simultaneously watching him sleep on the couch at 6pm or worse, glued to his laptop checking Craigslist to see what was new in the "free items" section every February 14th...so I finally snapped.

          I've even tried getting him chocolates and cards, you know, to prompt him.  Do you think it worked?  Nope.  He just said, "Hey, thanks.  How much did this cost?  You know we're on a budget." 


         Do I sound bitter?  Yeah, maybe.  So what, I let them get to me.  I let Hallmark and Zales get to me. "WHERE'S MY FUCKING CARD???  YOU DON'T LOVE ME!"  I'm a sheep, I admit it.  But admitting it is the first step.  I want that sappy shit.

           But, after the rational side of myself (which I usually keep bound and gagged in a closet on this holiday) had a talk with me I let him off the hook, mostly.  I told him he doesn't have to get me flowers (I mean really, have you SEEN what they charge for flowers in February?  In fact I demand he don't get me flowers on this day, only to stick it to those fucking opportunist florists), and he doesn't really even have to get me a card, but he DOES have to bring me chocolate.  I can live without the grand romantic gestures, love poems, dinner reservations, and all that shit, as long as I can stuff my face with milk chocolate caramels I'll be just fine and probably won't accidentally drop his tooth brush in the toilet this year.

          Well today is Valentines Day and although he's away for work, 3000 miles away to be exact, he is learning...a little bit.  Still haven't received anything in the mail, no Whitman's box hidden in the car, no flowers at the door, but I did get the modern day version of a Valentine.  He sent me a 4am text saying he loved me, a 6am email saying he was proud to be my husband, and an 8:30am phone call saying hi, Happy Valentines Day, and did you pay the water bill.

          So, we may not be candidates for those crappy Hallmark commercials, but we're getting there.  At least he uttered the words, Happy Valentines Day, so that's a start.


But if anyone asks, that heart shaped box I bought myself yesterday is from him....