My Funny Valentine

The roses are red. The violets are blue. So tis’ the season to find a new boo.

From winter’s cuffing season to Love Month, new “love” has been in bloom. Constantly. Around this time of year, I honestly can’t scroll through any social media outlet without seeing 849,723,8427 “me & bae” pictures; duck-facing at a Chilis dinner table, sharing a 2 for $20 meal over mediocre conversation & sexual flirtation.  Everyone wants the world to see their new found romances; alluding to their lover one heart emoji and WCW/MCM shout out at a time. And then there’s me… 

My love life, or lack thereof, has never been a big deal to me. I’ve always tried to focus on what was important: keeping myself and my connection with God together at all times. So consequently, and unintentionally, men have taken a back seat to that. My first and last relationship was in my junior year of high school; lasting all of 2 months *chuckles*. I talked to a few guys here and there in college, but nothing blossomed. I graduated almost 2 years ago, and I’m just living the struggle of a 20 something year old entrepreneur; no free time, still single. Though many of my girls have boyfriends, Betty Crockering and what not in my presence, I’m cool. I never feel uncomfortable or embarrassed about my singleness. But my comfort often turns into chagrin around February 14th.

Please understand, it’s not because I wish I had a man to spend this special day with. It’s because I see so many people force love to put on a show for their peers.  I watch young women brag and boast about these situationships they find themselves in; settling for Mr. Right Now and all the drama that he brings. Instead of learning how to be happy by themselves, these ladies will endure 364 days of hell in exchange for ONE DAY of kindness, compassion and romance. All to shoot subliminals, throw shade and talk down on lonely, bitter women like me that can’t find a man. Furthermore, I’m then pressed by men who feel the need to have cupid shoot me down and save my day via bad pick-up lines and convenient, thirst-worthy admiration. Very irritating.  

It’s crazy how one day can take the act of love and commercialize it so much that it loses its depth, its meaning. We use the word love so much, but do we really have a real world depiction of it every day of the year? Not exactly. We’re too busy trying to convince everyone (through pictures) of something that is more than a concept in theory, more than a feeling, and more than words. Love is the physical act of self-lessness that is displayed over and over and over again. It’s the act of removing your desires and saying “how can I make this person happy?”. Every day. When you don’t feel like it. When you’re angry. When you need it, but don’t receive it. True love is a sacrifice that you can’t fake. It can’t bought on a shelf. It’s not a teddy bear or flowers or candy or dinner and a movie on a national holiday. It is life. Sometimes its forgiving through the pain and tears. Sometimes it’s arguing and bickering, then making up. Sometimes its leaving for a while, only to find your way back.

As difficult and imperfect as it is, I believe in love in its truest form. So those 24 hours that make up the consumer driven day of February 14th mean absolutely nothing to me. I can buy my own dinner. I can take myself to a movie. I can buy my own candy (when it goes on sale). I need something more than a funny valentine to occupy my time and spend a little money me. I need a love that will cook me dinner for no special reason. I need a love that will play my favorite vinyl and slow dance with me, just because. I need a love that will communicate with me through the good and the bad. A love that will work hard 24/7; taking our special moments and building a lifetime out of them. And I’m not afraid to admit it.

I don’t need a holiday dictating my love life and I don’t need people trying to make me feel lonely because I choose patience over settling for mediocrity.

You all can have Valentine’s Day. I’ll wait for love.