I have never had a valentine on Valentine's Day, and I know I'm not alone. Don't worry. I am not going to go on a rant about the stupidity of the holiday and how it is better to be single, etc. The truth is that Julie from "The Real World: New Orleans" was right when she said, "You don't need a lover on Valentine's Day. You just need love." I hope that didn't make you gag. You have to admit that the na?ve Mormon virgin is right.
Freshman year, my best friend and I found ourselves lacking funds on our Smartrip cards on Valentine's Day. Instead of refilling them immediately, we decided to squeeze through the gate at the elevator entrance at the Tenleytown Metro and recharge at our destination. The policeman didn't seem to think that was a good plan. He took our licenses and wanted to write us tickets for fare evasion, but my friend convinced him to let us off with a warning. The moral of the story? Don't piss off a cop when he's working alone at night on Feb. 14.
Valentine's Day sophomore year, I was in one of the most romantic cities on earth: Rome. Valentine's Day consisted of making dinner for my best friend and an overdosing on wine. My only valentine was on the Facebook.
When we were younger, Valentine's Day was an excuse to take a few hours out of school to make mailboxes out of lunch bags, cut out construction paper hearts and distribute Garfield and X-Men valentines to the entire class. You always hoped that your secret crush would give you the valentine that said more than "We're Pals!" but somehow insinuated that they were harboring unbridled elementary school passion for you, as well. A candy heart that said "Be Mine" was definitely an invitation to hold hands under the jungle gym.
My fifth grade girlfriend's mom made her return the fake diamond necklace I got her, and my mom gave it to the neighbor for her birthday. That was probably the last time I bought jewelry for a girl I considered more than a friend.
As we got older, Valentine's Day started to take on more significance. We took crushes more seriously and relationships became more than just handholding. Valentine's Day became a test. Your relationship could hinge on the size of the box of chocolate you bought your significant other. A freshman in SIS told me that her best Valentine's Day ever was when her boyfriend left a flower for her in every class and then gave her a big bouquet at the end of the day. I was just excited to get Valentine's Day PEZ and a gift card from my mom.
Though my track record with the holiday may not seem desirable, the truth is I have never been without love on the day -- just a lover. So how has it become a day that routinely divides singles from couples? Most couples feel obligated to express their love for each other, while singles feel obligated to celebrate their single-hood. Some have expressed it as "Singles Awareness Day."
I am not sure that I buy into the idea that one day out of the year can alienate singles from couples. Anytime you find yourself alone in a restaurant sitting across from a couple holding hands can induce loneliness. When your girlfriend or boyfriend stays in, a night on the town with your friends can make being in a relationship the last thing you want.
If you were lucky enough to share the holiday with someone special, then I hope that false hopes and expectations for the day didn't get in the way of some quality time. If you were like me and found yourself flying solo this year, don't fret. Valentine's Day should just serve to remind us that there are many different forms of love in our lives. Sometimes just knowing your best friend will always be there for you can make not having a lover seem like the least of your problems.
We all just need to remember that Valentine's Day is not like Groundhog Day; Cupid works every day of the year. He can strike at any moment. If you're not buying that, then at least there are only four more weeks of winter before spring flings will be in full bloom.
