Another year, another Valentine’s Day, but as the years go by I’m learning just how I really feel about this “holiday”.  When I was in high school, if you were single on Valentine’s Day, which I always was, you were considered pathetic.  What’s worse is that you didn’t even have to have other people let you know how sad you were considered, because kids were beating themselves up over it – again, myself included.  There’s some stigma about this day of the year that being single is some horrible thing to be shunned; if you’re in a relationship, it’s sure to be the most romantic day of the year, but if you’re alone then you might as well curl up on the couch with a tub of ice cream and cry into your blanket while watching sappy romantic movies alone, pining for what could’ve been.  Umm…no thanks.

This will be my 3rd Valentine’s Day with Keith, and we’ve never made a big deal of it.  I think the first year we got cards or something like that, but that was likely due to the fact that our relationship was still so new.  I don’t recall doing anything last year, and I know we haven’t done anything for this year.   I love him every single day of the year, none any more than the others, and I refuse to believe that I should give in to the hype and go crazy one day a year to make sure he knows how special he is to me.

When I was single, I would’ve given anything to be in a relationship on Valentine’s.  I had this fantasy that it would be amazing and romantic and there’d be flowers and dinner and soft whispers of how much we’re in love.  What I didn’t realize was that to its own extent, each day can be like that.  Every morning when Keith wakes me up as he leaves for work, he kisses me and tells me he loves me.  When I get home from work, I tell him how much I missed him and we generally talk about our day together.  If we talk on the phone, we always end the call with “I love you” not because it’s habit, but because it’s true.  I love him every day of the year, no exceptions.  There’s no reason why Valentine’s Day should make me love him even more, or feel the need to show him.  He knows I love him, I show him all year.  We go out to dinner, we do things together other times; I no longer see this one day a year as the pinnacle of romance that it’s made out to be.  I see it as what it is – another day of the year.