Rediscovering my soppy side
For someone who used to think that Valentine's Day was a complete waste of money, it's amazing how things change when you're all loved up...
As a singleton I always thought that Valentine's Day was a day of utter humiliation. First there's the worry over who to send a card to. Then you need to think about whether to use your non-writing hand and make it look as illegible as possible, or perhaps it's best to get your next-door neighbour to write it. Maybe you should just be brave and put your name in after all, I mean secretly you want the person to know it's you or why else would you be sending it? Or maybe it's best not to send a card at all.
The problem was that whether I chose to ignore the day or embrace it, it was pretty impossible not to notice all the constant reminders around me with shops laden with balloons and heart-shaped everythings. There was no getting away from the fact that I had no one to cosy up to over a candle-lit dinner. There would be no rose petals scattered up the stairs leading to the bath, strewn with candles with the distant sound of Marvin Gaye crooning from the bedroom. Well that was always the dream.
When I entered into my first long-term relationship (not to make it sound like a prison sentence or anything) the first honeymoon year was kept simple. It was definitely 'not cool' to show too much affection and scare off my first proper boyfriend. A straightforward card did the trick and a meal out to the restaurant where three courses cost £5. No I'm not joking, but then he was the stereotypical northerner who never tipped in his life and thought that splurging was shopping in Asda as opposed to Aldi.
After previous years of being sent a card from my grandfather it was all rather a big disappointment. For someone who has her birthday at the end of January, Valentine's Day soon became a joint celebration with the ex. One year he bought me a new jumper. Now don't get me wrong, a girl can never have too many clothes and bless him for getting me the right size, but isn't the whole point of Valentine's Day that it's the one day of the year you can make heart-shaped toast for breakfast and wear stockings and red matching underwear without feeling like a slapper?
"Isn't the whole point of Valentine's Day that it's the one day of the year you can make heart-shaped toast for breakfast and wear stockings and red matching underwear without feeling like a slapper?"
Well it seems that luckily there has been no lasting damage from my past and after the five-year relationship with the northerner came to an end (ironically after watching American Pie the Wedding) followed by a subsequent two-and-a-half years living the single life, I have now rediscovered the joy of romance.
On February 14 I will have been with my current bloke for exactly four months to the day. That is long enough to be soppy with each other without having to do the 'bleurgh sick bucket' line and fingers-down-the-throat routine when I let slip how much I like him and how excited I am to see him after it only being two days since our last rendezvous.
So this year I have pulled out all the stops. To be honest so far I have been reasonably restrained at incredibly soppy gestures and drunken ramblings. Well, that's if you ignore the notes left on the bed when I leave after he goes to footie training; the fact that he has met all my family and vice versa; the moments when he spots me gushing; oh and the emails when I forget myself for a moment and tell him how much I can't wait to see him that night, sealed with a long row of kisses.This Valentine's Day I have pulled together a list of all the things he enjoys doing and which thankfully I love too. This has all been carefully planned into a big surprise day out that will begin moments after hopping into my little car and setting off onto the delights of the M40. He will then be given a large piece of red card with the day's itinerary written in italic with red stickers slapped all over it and rolled up into a scroll with a red ribbon. I don't know who is more excited about the day, him or me. OK, maybe me.
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