Valentine’s Day.  The manufactured holiday that has everyone thinking of relationship status.  I don’t care how strong you try to be, the ghosts of past, present and future love haunts every advertisement for candy, flowers and jewelry.  Depending on your frame of mind come February 14^th, that stupid Cupid falls very distinctly into one of two camps: Cute or Crap (not for nuthin’ does he wear a diaper).

This morning, I started to think about those that I have loved.  I would say “those that loved me,” but as I sat and looked over the Laundry List of Love, I saw more than a few names that were in it for all the wrong reasons, very often having nothing to do with love.

So, in no particular order, I decided to compile but a snippet of 50 years worth of brutally honest Valentine’s Day cards that I really should have sent (and might just yet. The illustrations are going to be more difficult) —

 Worst Blind Date Ever.  For years I’ve told the tale, without shame.

Once your good pal was in the audience, so I stopped telling your name.

 When you smiled at the locker, it just made my day.  

The memories still make me smile, even now that I’m gray.

Too briefly you were in and then out of my life,

I should have known, that’s what happens when you’ve already a wife.

With poetry you wooed, but once caught were subdued.

No words of love, just a cricket. Sorry I wasn’t a better meal ticket.

Girls! Girls! Girls! All you spoke of just made me see green.

Too bad “misogynistic” wasn’t a word I knew as a teen.

Look at you! Sporting a glossy, revved up new model, eh?

You walked away from a classic “T.” and there ain’t no more to say.

You were a louse of a souse, but I do not grouse.

Your corvette ‘twas red and fast and like our affair did not last.

You were a lad of great humor, just wish I knew about your girlfriend much sooner.

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.  No regrets and no shame.

You were entertaining but a bit scary, which is why I didn’t tell you my real name.

Half my age.  Mighty hot.  Not gonna lie – I was flattered.

But, I’ve sworn off fast food.  Choosing substance that mattered.

Prince Charming you were, that was so easy to see.

But I knew that your Princess was out there (and not me).

Over heated texts and phone calls your desire you tried proving.

Alas!  You lived across the country with no intentions of moving.

I’m confused… were we dating?  Or friends, just relating?

Mighty moon-y for Clooney, but stalking is looney and besides… he’d just sue me. 

You were a fan of Heliskiing – Canada, Europe and Chile!

Banker Boy, you loved money, but it made your heart rather chilly.

 

To all of my Valentines, old and new, I’m so happy for the stories and the lessons you taught me about the human heart.  I am forever grateful to have discovered that love knows no bounds and that we are capable of caring for one another beyond the cookie cutter definitions that February 14^th has tried to lay out annually.  Each and every one of you holds a special place in my heart, like a gigantic compartmentalized box of chocolate – some sweet, some salty and more than a few nuts and things to chew over in my mind.  Thank you, for that.  I love that.  And you.

xo – t.

 * * *

To the one who truly holds my heart, my own words fail me.  So, I instead turn to the experts:

“You were made perfectly to be loved – and surely I have loved you, in the idea of you, my whole life long.” ~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning