Ghosts of Valentine's Days Past

I have a love/hate relationship with Valentine's Day. It's not because I'm the bitter spinster who's sad they're alone, or the dejected girlfriend who wishes her guy was so much more; on the contrary, it's because in the past I've always seemed to have a better time when I was single than when I was in a relationship. 

I suppose the main exception to this thought would be the my first Valentine's Day with the guy, 2001, senior year of high school (yes, I was a late bloomer). Marc sent me a yellow carnation in class from one of those clubs trying to raise money for some upcoming event. He took me to dinner that night and got me a card. We sat in my car and talked for a while about nothing. It was as innocent as a night could get. Granted, we stopped talking pretty much about a month later because he didn't want to define us in a relationship and informed me of this by making out with another girl.

The next year I spent Valentine's Day with my new boyfriend, Andy. We were awkward and possessed no chemistry at all. We watched a movie in my room and decided that the silent conversation was enough. The rest of the night was spent upstairs with our mutual friends. He got me a small, silver chain with a black pendant that year. Many years later I threw it, along with any remaining thoughts of him, away. 

Samir and I did have one Valentine's Day together while dating the first time around. Sadly, it was on a week day and since we lived in different cities, we didn't get to see one another. He sent me a card and tickets to see a band we liked. So although I was happy with him, the day was rather lonely in my classroom with my students declaring their love for one another. 

I've thrown three Singles Awareness Day Parties, each one better than the last. The first was full of video games, junk food, and, incredibly enough, six single guys. Six single guys and me. Some may think HEAVEN! Some may be wrong. They were all guys in circus with me; I knew where they'd been and who they'd been with. There are boundaries one never crosses. So, instead of complaining about our singledom, we beat each other up with Ryu and Chun Li. 

The next year I, still single, threw my second party. This time the genders were more mixed and this time we had drinks to make us forget our loneliness. The beverages consisted of whatever was in my refrigerator and ended up turning into strange concoctions, but no matter. We played games, told jokes and laughed a lot. It was a complete success.

The biggest achievement in single parties, however, was the year after. My roommates at the time and I themed it a Rat Pack Party - come dressed to impress. Sinatra and Martin echoed out of the speakers as we drank martinis mixed by our personal bartender (my good friend Lane). So many people came and everyone looked amazing. I put heart decorations on the table for effect. Half way through the party I gave Samir one of the paper hearts; in response, he gave me a pen. It's no coincidence that we started dating one month later. 

Last year was surprisingly not as hard as I thought it would be. Megan took me to a romantic dinner at Tijuana Flats where they gave us free sangria (Hunter was in Tallahassee at the time). We met up with my friend Tighe afterwards at a bar and threw some darts until he became too moody over his current breakup. Not wanting to spoil my optimistic outlook, Megan drove me home and we laughed and giggled and vowed that this year would be better.

Well, it is. For the first time I'm spending Valentine's Day with a guy who loves me. I know the day itself doesn't mean much in the scheme of things, but it's nice to know that this year i'll be happy while in a couple. That it's possible.  I planned a full weekend for us, from dinner at a nearby restaurant and iced cookies waiting at home, to a day at the history center looking at the Muppet exhibit. I even hand made him a gift. For someone like me who isn't quite crafty, that's saying something. 

Of course, things don't always go as planned for me. There's a strong chance he, in the end, won't be able to make it down here for a very, very good reason. One that's more important than hearts and flowers and Cupid. One that puts everything in perspective. 

In the end, the only thing keeping me from being disappointed is the fact that I know we'll have next year together and the next and the next. And that one, if not all, of those years I'll actually get to celebrate it with him. No two hour drive, no interrupting plans. And that maybe then I'll love this holiday for what it's meant to be. Party or no party.