My musings upon St. Valentine’s Day
Yesterday was 14th February, a day which occurs without fail every single year. And yet it is a day when the world turns sickeningly pink and heart-shaped.
I’m sure I’ll be labelled “jealous”, “unromantic”, possibly even “old” with these comments, but here I go…
I know people, in real life, real people, with real relationships, who have spent literally hundreds upon hundreds of pounds on their partner for yesterday’s so-called celebrations. These are people, by and large, who are not Catholic, do not attend regular Christian worship, and don’t even bother to keep the Christ in Christmas, yet felt the need to pour their (in some cases) hard-earned money into an ancient Catholic tradition (St Valentines Day was the one day a year when courting couples were allowed to spend time together unchaperoned).
I don’t “do” Valentine’s Day. It’s a silly thing, really. Enforced romanticism? What is exciting about that? Honestly, sod a wilting, over-priced bunch of flowers, I’d rather have an orgasm. And I can happily achieve that on my own.
I’m sure it’s lovely to have a new breed of rose named after you (sadly, I genuinely know someone who was delighted to have this yesterday). I’m sure a trail of rose petals through your house is a wonderful thing to wake up to (same person!), and being told you have to wait home all day for deliveries of cakes and biscuits (yes, her again!) is fabulous, but I’d rather not endorse questionable genetic engineering, clear up a load of flower heads from my floor, or have my day dictated to me by a man who is supposed to adore me.
I know someone else who’s an idiot about this February 14th thing. He’s supposed to be saving up for a deposit on a rental property with his girlfriend. He’s 23, has a 2:1 from Birmingham University, and works as a waiter. He gave his last £15 (all the money he has left until pay day, in two weeks) to Interflora. Stupid.
People are going into debt over this!
I can’t even imagine being in that situation, or for that matter being with someone who would consider a bunch of flowers to be a suitable use of his overdraft.
Someone asked me once, two years ago, what I “doing” for Valentines day. I replied that I was spending the day at a ladies only spa with my mum and sister. Automatically the assumption was that my marriage must be in trouble. I’m not even going to bother dissecting that.
But really, what my thoughts on this silly, silly day all come down to is this: If your partner only shows you that s/he cares one day a year, and that under duress, you should probably take a long, hard look at your relationship.
