To be frank, I used to loathe Valentines' Day.
In fact, I used to hate the entire month. I decided back around when I was about 15 years old that the month of February had it out for me. You see, I have never been the girl with the boyfriend that brought her flowers, candies, balloons, and such on Valentines Day. I have always been alone when that dreaded holiday occurred. I adopted a new name for it: VD. As in vinereal disease. Yeah, I hated it that much.
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Looking back, that year actually wasn't that bad. I actually did have a boyfriend. We'd been together since December. The weekend before we went to a nice dinner his church was having. And on the day of, it was tuesday I believe, he bought me the kissing teddy bears from Hallmark. I had gotten him a personalized journal, with one of those old timey pens, and candy. I guess I just didn't like his reaction to what I got him. And he gave me the candy back. Plus, I guess I expected more hoopla... I know now I should've felt loved and appreciated because that's what I was. Well, at least until that next week.
He started acting funny. He had very little to say to me. He was distant. He was unavailable. And I could feel the break-up coming. He had absolutely no reason to break up with me. Things were exceptionally great. It was completely out of left field. So, after that, February could kiss my ass. It took me a year to the day to get over him. And once I had, I held no great expectations about VD or February whether I was with someone or not. And for good reason - I never had one that even came close to being what I thought it should.
It took me a long time to see how full of shit I was. This day should be about the celebration of Love - in all it's forms. And I love my family and my friends. Each VD me, my sisters, and my mother all exchange gifts. Everything from dancing, singing gorillas to ballons and teddy bears. They have always extended the love I needed, even while away at college.
So finally, at 23, I am able to truly enjoy this day. I no longer harbor any resentment to Valentines' Day or February.
And I've actually had a good day! I went to see my Dad in the hospital. He's been in for 2 months with a massive brain hemmorhage. Today we found out he's finally getting out (going to a rehab center) and he talked with us. He did get a lil snippy with me. But as long as he's making progress, I don't even care!
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And that guy that broke my heart at 15, just told me that he's never found a love like that since then. He regrets ever having left me, and he plans to move back to this area. I don't know what that means for my (possibly our) future, but I'm excited about it. Extremely excited!
My heart is so full, I could burst. (cue the corny, sappy, sugary love music now)