I’ve never been a big fan of Valentine’s Day. Though I respect couples who enjoy the festivities — the candies, flowers and stuffed animals — I’ve always thought love should be celebrated every day, not just one.
So even if my husband were here, and not thousands of miles away, I would ask that we celebrate Valentine’s by picking up chocolate on clearance the day after and nothing more.
Despite how silly it seems, the commercial pressure of romance does make me hyperaware of his absence. Before I would have rolled my eyes at the idea of having a Valentine, but now, Valentine-less, it doesn’t seem so petty.
Maybe it’s the heart-covered ads that fill my mail box or the love-themed everything that litters stores that has me so desperately wishing for my husband to be here so that he could give me a box of chocolates or a dozen roses.
And it’s definitely not just me. It seems like so many are waiting impatiently for the giant stuffed monkey with his bright red heart to be removed from store displays. Things that would normally make a person smile or maybe even scoff are now the same things that make a person cry.
To help battle the loneliness that comes with a holiday based on celebrating love, I remind myself my husband is out there for the red, white and blue, and I’m just here fighting against all of the red and white.
When I think of it that way, I remember that my battle against Valentine’s Day isn’t such a big deal after all.