Roses Are Red

I’ve never really liked Valentine’s day. This year is no different, for all the obvious reasons.

I hate the forced lovey-ness of everything. To me, I don’t feel the need for a special day show your love to a partner. I’ve always worked to make those I love know how I feel about them all 365 days of the year, not just February 14th.

Love isn’t an overpriced card. It can’t be found in a box of chocolate, or a bouquet of flowers. It’s not a sparkly trinket, or a stuffed animal holding a heart. Love isn’t material.

Love is in how you treat your partner, how you treat yourself. It’s in the time you spend together, or how you feel when you’re apart. It’s in the little touches when you’re close to one another because you can’t resist the desire to reach out to them. Love is in the little things you do for them without even thinking about it, like setting out their coffee cup in the morning or getting the spots they’ve missed or can’t reach. It’s getting that special treat because you know it’s going to sell out quickly. It’s in those feelings in the pit of your stomach, the butterflies you get when you think of the happy times, the hollow feeling when things are bad.

People say “love means never having to say you’re sorry.” I think they’ve gotten it all wrong. They’re assuming that you’ll never do anything to cause pain to the ones they love, they’ll never disappoint them. Unless you’re a mind reader, this is just something that’s just never going to happen. You can’t predict the future, and you don’t get to decide how your actions or words will affect someone.

On the contrary, love means saying you’re sorry when it’s needed. It’s knowing that you’ve done wrong, and acknowledging your actions or words have caused hurt. Love is making that effort to see how they’re feeling, to empathize and understand that pain, and taking that moment to reflect on it. It’s admitting to it.  It’s coming clean.

But love is also saying those things that need to be said, even if you know they’ll hurt.  Love is honesty in the face of the pain it might cause because being dishonest to those you love is being dishonest to you and does yourself a disservice.   Love is being true, to you and to others.

This year, I’m loving me.