I recall one Valentine’s when I wasn’t single but I chose to be alone than spend time with my “boyfriend”. I was in a relationship but all I could think about was being by myself instead. The idea of not wanting to take part in V-Day stuff was then a way to resist, deny and hide from what sort of love I was in. I was in a rage against myself and the mess I had gotten myself into. I felt very disillusioned that day, knowing love isn’t all it’s cracked up and painted to be, especially come February 14. I think I just stayed in, slept early and woke up feeling okay to still be alone though I am not and shouldn’t be.
Yet another Valentine’s, I took myself to dinner and watched couples have theirs. I sat there, slowly enjoying my beef misono and tempura, making up the many beginnings and middles and probable endings for the love stories of those lovebirds. I also happened to sit across a very handsome young boy who shyly glanced up and smiled at me in between chews. I was the observer, the sucker for both magic and pain, and must have been the only solo diner that night. The ambience of partners and lovers and families should have intimidated me but it didn’t. I felt so completely fine with it all. I felt so alive being the stranger who felt and saw what love is without taking any real part in the complicated romantic equation. Moments like that, you’d figure out why Valentine’s never fails to sell. ‘Cause love is still very bankable. It still happens, still exists, still colours the world beautiful, no matter when and where.
Another Valentine’s is here, I’m single in the true sense of the word this time around. While many feel bitter about being alone this one day, I don’t. I think it’s perfectly alright to go dating myself shamelessly. I still feel very okay just having me as company. I mean, self-love should also be celebrated, right? =) Perhaps it’s even safe to assume that relationship with the self is the one relationship we should never fail to celebrate.