ValentineÂ’s Day sucks a big dogÂ’s cock.
I resent there being a day where we are forced to demonstrate our love to the special person (or people) in our lives. Surely the point of love is that it should be there constantly and surely the point of romantic gestures is that they should be spontaneous, rather than made obligatory, and enforced by a tiny, flying baby with a bow and arrow.
And you canÂ’t win. If you do nothing, you look and feel like a more grumpy version of Ebenezer Scrooge (letÂ’s face it, he only hated Christmas, which is understandable, but to hate the idea of love itself! Inhuman), but if you do anything you are always aware that it is being judged, that it might just not be enough, that it might not compare favourably to other ValentineÂ’s Days with other boyfriends.
And I am seriously not in the mood for all that today. The late arrival home, followed by not enough sleep and today feels like I am constantly walking around in a massive polythene bag that someone has filled with smoke. Not only is my vision cloudy, but all my senses are impaired, so possibly the smoke contains some marijuana fumes, but not enough to give me any kind of enjoyment, just enough to make me sleepy and befuddled.
As it happens, Steph is similarly knackered and also quite vociferously against ValentineÂ’s Day. We decide to just get a take-away and have some champagne and watch a film. But I still feel I am short-changing her by not taking her out and showering her with gifts.
The Indian restaurant in StephÂ’s village is packed full of couples, with the ladies dressed up in their smartest clothes. I can see the strain on everyoneÂ’s faces. TheyÂ’re trying to look as if they are the most in love, that they are having the best ValentineÂ’s Day. Even though they are in a mediocre Indian restaurant in Hampshire. (Hey, at least theyÂ’ve bothered to book a table. IÂ’m just treating my bird to a take-away from this mediocre restaurant. How crap am I?) But itÂ’s not even that it isnÂ’t the most romantic or poshest eatery in the world. The strain comes from this ridiculous expectation that is brought about by having a state-appointed day for love.
There are no winners. Single people end up feeling like shit when they get no cards. People in relationships get to realise how unromantic and uncaring their partner is (comparitively). Or find out that she thinks Purple Ronnie is amusing.
How many relationships has this day destroyed?
