Rerun: Flashback to 2009

Post Valentine’s Day Hang Over (circa 2009)

“Hey… so… I was wondering… if you want to… um… do anything for… uh… Valentine’s Day?” I’m so nervous. My hands are clammy. My heart is pounding. I hold my breath and bite my lower lip as I wait for his response.

“Why? I don’t get Valentine’s Day. It’s a bunch of hype and no one really knows what it’s all about anyway, like where it came from and stuff.”

“Right. Okay, yeah, that’s cool.” My eyes are darting from one object to the next. My mind is racing. Did that just happen? Seriously? Why am I with this guy again?

Girls, girls, girls. We sacrifice so much to hold on to so little.

It seems we have always been this way though. In my quest to really understand what Valentine’s Day is all about, I found some disturbingly humorous information.

Apparently it all began in Pagan Rome when February 14 was a holiday honoring Juno, the Queen of the gods and patroness of marriage. On this day, the names of girls would be written on scraps of paper and put into a jar, which guys would then draw from.

The couples would be paired together for the duration of something called the Lupercalia festival, which began the following day, February 15.

The Lupercalia festival supposedly began with an animal sacrifice; the men would slaughter a goat, then take the bloody skin and run through the streets whipping women with it.

The punch line? The women actually LIKED it because it was supposed to increase their fertility in the upcoming year.

Who knows how much of that is really true. Don’t believe everything you read on the internet, kids. But given the behavior of most women, self included, these fables don’t sound too far fetched.

Don’t be discouraged, women. We have come a long way since Lupercalia. We have gone from bloody goat skin to things like cards, candy, and flowers. And we are taken on romantic dates to candle light dinners and chick flicks.

Whoever caused that shift in celebration is a very rich man. I mean seriously, the card industry would fold without Valentine’s Day. One word – Hallmark. We’d all be SOL if we had to write our own love messages on a piece of paper, fold it in half and stick it in an envelope… right?

Then there is the film industry. “Confessions of a Shopaholic” and “Two Lovers” have strategically scheduled their debut for February 13.

The biggest culprit? Definitely the floral industry. A red carnation that would sell for a dollar on a good day is suddenly ten dollars extra.

Somewhere in our celebration of love and romance, the bandit Lust crept onto the scene. He’s a sneaky one.

I found him on the corner of Artesia and Inglewood Boulevard one bereaved Valentine’s Day. Whatever sweet innocence I had left at the age of 18 regarding love and commitment and romance was definitely tarnished for life on that corner at J’s Flowers.

It was my first job out of high school and I had high hopes. After all, my favorite movie was “Bed of Roses”. A flower shop was exactly where I was going to find true love.

We spent weeks gearing up for Valentine’s Day so I was eager to help him when he walked in and looked lost in a sea of pre-made arrangements. His golden wedding band was gorgeous. He must be a real romantic. My heart stirred as I approached.

“Can I help you with anything, sir?”

“Um, yeah… I’m not really sure what to get here.”

I pointed out a few of the really nice arrangements, highlighting the red tones, which were of course very romantic.

“You know what, just pick one out that you think she’d really like.” He seemed a little rushed.

I picked up one of my favorites – red and pink roses with just the right amount of baby’s breath interspersed, “Your wife will love this one!”

Almost with a chuckle he says, “Oh these aren’t for my wife.”

Being the hopeless romantic that I am, I automatically thought they must be for his mother or maybe his sister. Those dreams were halted when I read the note affixed to the arrangement.

“Wow. That’s some love note, sir.” Was all I could stutter out as I watched him fill out the delivery address and toss the receipt into the trash can.

“Thank you.” And he walked out of the shop with my romantic ideals stuck to the gum under his shoe.

What does a girl do with that? I have spent years since then asking myself that very question. Through all the relationships, dating mishaps, car wreck blind dates and the broken hearts, wounded pride and fractured dreams… through it all I have lost hope, found hope and lost it again. It’s a roller coaster ride I can never escape.
So when it comes down to it, what have I learned? What is the trick? What do I do?

I wait. I wait with hopeful expectation of the best. Which is ironic because I’m not known for my optimism on most days. Something within me is deeply affected though when my heart gets involved. That inner sense of drowning I usually dwell in disappears and a part of me becomes miss little ray of sunshine. Even now I think it’s pathetic. But still there’s a part of me that hears the little girl who just wants everyone to be happy. Happy and in love. And that part of me deeply believes there is a little bit of hope inside of everyone.