Pertinacious, Us

This is our 13th Valentine’s Day since we became an item. And I don’t remember we ever celebrated it in any big sort of way – not before marriage, and most definitely not after. In fact, our first Valentine’s Day in 2001 occurred on the day I passed my validation to become a licensed air traffic controller. I happily drove down to his place to look for him after overnight duty hoping he had prepared to celebrate the double occasion with me, only to be sorely disappointed. He was adamant about not supporting this commercial farce.

Being a die-hard romantic at heart, I was devastated to learn that I will never get to celebrate Valentine’s Day in the big sort of way everybody else I know celebrates. But as years go by, I find myself agreeing with H about this day where roses are priced at like thrice their usual prices (and I don’t even like roses). When we want to buy presents for each other, we don’t wait for special occasions. Too practical and pragmatic for that, you could say.

H loves me 365 days of the year, 366 on leap years and he shows it in little ways every single day. I don’t need him to validate his love for me on this day when deep down inside, we all know that the only people that benefit are the florists, gift shops and restaurants.

Today, H had lunch with me in town prior to my other appointment. It was a simple lunch with no fuss. Not even remotely expensive. And then he went home to spend time with his two other Valentines while I spent the bulk of today with a girlfriend who does not have a Valentine and needed some company today. We passed by Cartier earlier on and saw a couple dressed up to the nines in the boutique. The girlfriend/wife in a long blue gown was clearly picking out her own Valentine’s Day gift. I admit I did feel a stab of jealousy there and then, but it passed in seconds. This is not the life I hanker after. I’d rather travel than receive gems and such. More importantly, H knows it too.


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