Love as a Holiday

As long as I can remember, Valentine’s Day seemed to be rather a hypocritical holiday to me.  What was Pope Gelasius thinking when he decreed this one?  I mean seriously:  One day a year, we will express our love and devotion to that special person in our life on a day named after Christian martyrs.  Just gives you the warm fuzzies reading that one doesn’t it?  Add to that, it’s been around since 496 A.D.  Seriously.  I looked it up.

So, once a year we fall all over ourselves to make sure we show our love for our partners.  A pound of chocolates, flowers, a romantic dinner- you name it.  I admit I’m guilty of this as well.  Right now, Simon and I are in Paris for a romantic holiday.  It’s the most romantic city in the world (not so much…), and love is in the air (if that’s true, love smells like bacon).  In all honesty, I wanted to come here and make out with my man under the Eiffel Tower.  Just so I could say we had.  Well, mission accomplished on this one.  Everything else we see or do is gravy.

Whatever happened to doing special things for your partner just because?  Why does romance need to be marked off on a calendar?

Wanna know a secret?  Simon and I have been carrying on since May 1^st of last year when we went to dispose of the ashes of my deceased partner (and his best friend).  I know: that’s just the sort of thing that couples have founded their relationship on since time began isn’t it?  Our romance started there in Italy, and once a week I receive a rose from Simon.  He’s never handed them to me directly – not once.  I have received them from gate attendants at the airport, two pilots, waiters, cello players, taxi drivers, two government officials, one person who I’m pretty sure was royalty, the girl behind the counter as Quizno’s, my auto mechanic, two homeless guys, the hottie I drool over in the lighting section of Lowe’s, my gym partner and one celebrity.  He hasn’t missed a week – not once. Even when we were separated by thousands of miles, I still got them.  I have no clue how he does it either and he’s not talking.  They’re never delivered to me – someone hands them to me with a message.  1-800-Flowers is completely amateur in comparison to these endeavours.  I get a rose with the message “from someone who’s just mad for you”.   The best one was while I was getting my oil changed.  My auto mechanic is 7’2”, weighs over 300 lbs and is nicknamed “horse collar” because that’s just about the size of his neck.  It was simultaneously the most romantic and hysterical moment of my life.

That’s romance to me.  That’s love.  And it doesn’t need a holiday.

So, when today is over and tomorrow simply becomes February 15^th, think about what you’re going to do to keep the romance alive in your relationship.   There are 364 more days to go until next Valentine’s Day.

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