I used to be one of those people that was adamantly opposed to the notion of Valentines Day. Truth be told, I have no idea why. Probably because, for the longest time, I never really thought for myself and hating Valentines Day was somewhat of a trendy thing to do. Again, I have no idea why. I always wore black, head to toe, and I perpetually bitched and moaned about this “ridiculously over-commercialized holiday” (which it may well be, but I don’t think that’s my point).
The truth, I think, is that I hated the day only when I had no one to celebrate it with. The only real joy I got out of the day was a) seeing the flowers my mom got from my day and b) getting those chalky candy hearts from my parents (yes, I love those candies!).
But I suppose, now that I have someone (permanently), I absolutely LOVE LOVE LOVE Valentines Day! I love the ostentatious displays of flowers that Todd gets me, I love going out to dinner and being all doe-eyed at each other, I love giving and getting gifts for each other and I love, more than anything, being continually and madly in love with this one man.
It kind of drives me nuts that, when I get these gorgeous bouquets at work, some people just roll their eyes or make gagging noises (which didn’t happen this year, but certainly has in the past). Maybe it’s selfish of me, but I refuse to let someone else’s misery dictate how I react toward Valentine’s Day anymore.
I’m happy and we’re in love.