This is one of those events.
Now, my parents were married on Valentine’s Day…eloped…in fact, so one might think such a “romantic” occasion would bring a special tug to my heart-strings or cause me to reflect whimsically on this day, but it doesn’t. I mean, don’t get me wrong, my folks had a good, solid marriage. They had been married 55 years when my mom died, and then my dad literally grieved himself to death, passing away the following year.
No, as you may well have guessed by now, my distaste of this day that has been set aside exclusively for “couples” stems from a purely visceral source…a man. Not just a man…I thought he was “the” man.
It’s been thirty years now and while I have long since “gotten over” him, I’ll never forget the heartless, thoughtless, GUTLESS way in which he decided to culminate our relationship. He lived in Nashville, Tennessee and I lived in Southern Ohio, so it was one of those long distance relationships, and that was "back in day" before such things as email, and cell phones, and texting, and unlimited long distance. We actually wrote "honest to God" letters to one another and ran up enormous phone bills.
His name was Pete. He was the one who started talking about marriage and kids and stuff, but when Pete got cold feet – and he had big ones – did he confront me in person? Did he call me on the phone? Did I get a "Dear Joan" letter? Did he "say it" with flowers, or send a candy-gram? Did he send the news via carrier pigeon, do an interpretive dance, or hire a sky-writer?
The answer to all of those questions is a resounding NO! Not only did the spineless weasel send his SISTER -- my friend -- to deliver his wretched message, but he chose to do it on...Valentine’s Day. So, my friends, once you’ve been dumped on – what is touted to be – the most romantic of all days, it tends to turn one sour toward this "sweetest" day henceforth. Need I say more?
For those of you who have more pleasant memories of the day, or who have an intimate evening planned with your special someone...that's super. This, however, is what I think about Valentine's Day and that cute, little, rosy-cheeked, chubby cherub now...and forever more.
5 comments:
Aha, so cupid is dead. That explains it.
What a spineless bastard...A coward. I'm sure it didn't feel this way at the time, but...Yuck, would you want to be with a man like that?
And really....What is Valentine's day? We need a specific holiday to show our love for someone? It's just big business, nothing romantic about that.
You're absolutely right, Tess. I know I dodged a bullet, but -- at the time -- it hurt. I did -- eventually -- get to tell him what I thought, and I called him a coward. But that, as they say, is another story.
Glad you got to tell him what you thought of him!
Like I said elsewhere, I remain convinced 'Valentine's day' was invented by the damn card companies to make money; and for NO other reason.
Think of it as HIS loss honey, not yours!
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