February 14, 2012


This is something: I do not hate Valentines Day.

I am currently unattached and that is what it is. I mean, do I love being single? Sometimes, honestly, yes. Like when I want to watch Friday Night Lights for hours on end, I have no one to answer to. Other lots of times, no. Like when I can't find anyone to go with me to an event and a significant other would have to because they love me or something and it's my understanding that's how things work. I don't know, but either way, a day of love-focus is not something I frown upon. We should probably have more of them, in fact. And regardless of your opinion of the contrived nature of the Hallmark-induced holiday and how ridiculous it is that we all buy into the commercialism etc etc and so on and so forth, I mean, I just don't care that much. It's a silly holiday. If you're in love, celebrate it. If you're not, celebrate the other ways that love is all up in your life. If you want to cry into a wine bottle on your couch with the shades drawn watching Nicholas Sparks movies all day because you're not spending tonight at an Olive Garden reinacting the Bella Notte scene from Lady and the Tramp, I guess that's your prerogative. But I do so wholeheartedly wish you wouldn't.

What I won't do is bombard you with platitudes and clich├ęs because then I would have to hate me, and I'm quite partial to liking me. But just because your life in no way resembles a Rom Com at this moment in time, doesn't mean you don't have a love story. It just looks different. It's unfolding, if you will. In process, or whatever. My life is full of love. It is a gift that is at once and the same time both excruciating and delicious; it means my heart is wrenched beyond what I think it can bear but it also means it is full beyond my own capacities. I am given opportunities to love all over every single day and even when I don't take those opportunities, even when I really suck at love, I wake up again the next morning and there are more chances, more opportunities, and I am refilled with love to give. Like magic.

And you know what? I'm ok, and I'm glad I'm ok, but it doesn't mean I don't wonder. It doesn't mean I don't hope. It doesn't mean I don't want. And while it would be nice if you were here already, I've got plenty to do until you get here so I'm sure I won't get bored. See you when I see you.

Maybe right now love feels scarce. But I promise you. It's not.

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