I really shouldn’t be writing about this, but it’s Valentine’s Week.
After being single for so long (six years since the last relationship), the idea of spending the Valentine non-holiday with my special someone seems so foreign. The operative word is “spending.” Regardless of my status, I hold this to be true: the celebration of Valentine’s Day is overrated and its saccharine trappings, all too commercialized.
Growing up, I thought I wanted the red roses-chocolates-stuffed toys-and-candlelit dinner Valentine gift combo, the stuff high school-age girlish dreams are made of. Red and “heartsy,” warm and fussy. Thinking about it now, that’s what it really was, and still is — a gift combo. Traditional, convenient, cutesy, pa-porma (can’t seem to find the words to translate this) — a package perpetuated by what the malls, TV commercials, and romantic comedy movies tell us about spending and giving gifts.
Last year, my Valentine’s Day was spent eating shawarma rice at the UP Fair grounds. My boyfriend, probably thinking I was a stick insect, gave me a nice vintage graphic t-shirt sized XS…but I’m actually an M/L, not even an S. No worries. He thought I was smaller/thinner. Best part was, it did fit! After the gift-giving, we found out beer wasn’t allowed at the fair so we left UP and hung out at a nearby resto-bar with friends. We drank cheap beer, ate greasy sisig, listened and sang along to a folk singer, and laughed until the wee hours. It was one of the best Valentine’s Day celebrations I’ve had in a while.
This year, I will be spending Valentine’s Day at the hospital taking care of a family member. I already asked my boyfriend to come over. He better bring food. I’m counting on a hearty take-out meal in disposable containers to make my Valentine’s Day special. Or maybe we can just have a cup of those Php25 coffee concoctions at 7-Eleven. (French vanilla is the best.) His mere presence will make any day special.
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