Campfyre Stories

This week, it’s all about hearts and flowers.  It’s about pink and red and chocolates, but other than the generalized annoyance of the holiday-based inundation of advertising, I’ve been relatively unaffected.

I keep seeing other blog entries about memorable Valentine’s Days and I participate in conversations about plans or the lack thereof, but still, I’m neither in a frenzy nor a funk about it.

There are many holidays that I enjoy thoroughly and actively look forward to (or dread, depending).  Thanksgiving, Hallowe’en, Christmas, Independence Day, but Valentine’s Day is not on my list at all.  I’d even go so far as to say, it’s not really on my radar other than the aforementioned inundations.  In fact, for my part, I think that New Year’s Eve is the most romantic holiday of all of them.  I’ve had some memoriably romantic NYE’s.

It’s not that I actively dislike Valentine’s Day, I’m merely apathetic.  It’s not that I’m not a romantic, either, far from it, but upon reflection, I can’t think of a single memorable Valentine’s Day that I’ve had.  Ever.

I’ve had romantic evenings that stand out in my mind.  I’ve had days and moments that I will never forget with regard to whatever significant other I was with at the time, but none of them - NONE - were on February 14.

Sure, there have been flowers or candy, maybe even a candlelit dinner or two, but none of them stand out.  In fact, I’ve found myself, this year, so far removed from the holiday that I made plans with a friend for "Wednesday" without considering the ramifications of a cross-gender evening on this particular day.  I’ve confided my concerns on this subject to a friend who was helpful (woo, go you!), so I won’t get into it here.

But it surprises me that after 31 Valentine’s Days, NONE of them stand out as special, let alone exceptional or traumatic.  I can’t imagine that if any of my exes read this that they’d be offended, because I suppose I’ve always wound up with guys who were…  not unromantic, but, let’s call it unconventionally romantic.

It’s strange, I think.  You can pick any one of my past boyfriends and I can give you specific instances with specific details of a romantic evening or romantic moment, but whether I was single, dating or married, I can’t conjure up a single Valentine’s memory.  There is no best, there is no worst, there is nothing significant to me, personally, about this day.

I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing.  I don’t have strong feelings either way.  It’s just one more thing that puts me outside of the society I live in, I guess.  I know that it’s been acknowledged, I know that people have made the obligatory gestures, but it was never something shattering (for good or bad).

I’m okay with that.