Valentines Day

I walk into CVS and spot the seasonal aisle that has quickly gone from Christmas discounts to a red sea of Valentines chocolate, figurines and stuffed animals, seemingly overnight. Happiness rises in me like bubbles, a parade of conversation hearts taking flight.

Call me.

Big hug.

Be mine.

I’m aware that most people do not have this positive visceral reaction to Valentines fare. “It’s a Hallmark holiday,” they say. “It’s not real,” they say. “I don’t believe in it, ” they say. For me, it’s just as real as Santa is to a six-year old. And just like Santa, there’s no prize for not believing. Valentines is one of the last illusions I’m holding on to and I don’t plan on giving it up any time soon.

When I think about Valentines Day, I go back to a time when my dad would get my sisters and me heart-shaped boxes of chocolate. Cliche, yet cemented into my mind. Parents are a place of pure love. So in my adult life, I continue this tradition as both the giver and receiver. Valentines Day gives me the opportunity to craft sentimental notes and be a little more affectionate than the average Tuesday.

As I drive home from work, I think about the past five Valentines Days with my partner. From the first one together, he embraced what I loved about the holiday and delivered. Celebrating this sugar coma holiday is a gift of full acceptance. It is him saying, “I know what’s important to you and you can depend on me to honor it every year, despite all the people who think it’s dumb or overplayed or both.” It feels more special than a birthday. Birthdays are forced. You have to get someone a gift and a card and carve out out time for them. Valentines is different. It’s optional and unnecessary. It’s extra credit. And the man who believes in it for me, will always have a place in my candy heart.