THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, February 12, 1995 TAG: 9502120049
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: ELIZABETH SIMPSON
LENGTH: Medium: 65 lines
Ah, sweet Cupid's day.
Lacy valentines lettered by hand. Heart-shaped boxes of luscious chocolate. A quiet dinner with that special someone who pops the big question during dessert.
Then again, maybe not.
How about old valentines under a pillow soaked with tears. Going to bed early. Pretending the day doesn't exist.
There's a good news-bad news quality about these days specially orchestrated by Hallmark. One Valentine's Day feels warmly romantic; another, loveless. One birthday you're lying awake in anticipation, the next you're dreading another year down the hatch. One New Year's Eve feels like the whole world is opening up, the next feels ominous.
These special days aren't just bonanzas for card makers; they force us into summing up how we fit into the big picture of love and life.
While Valentine's Day has always seemed like a minor star in the year's constellation of holidays, it isn't so for a single friend of mine.
``It's a yearly reminder I'm not attached, yet again,'' she tells me. ``They should sell calendars that run Feb. 14 to Feb. 14 so you could chalk up another year of single, no prospects, still looking.''
Never mind that children celebrate friendship on Valentine's Day with cards tucked into aluminum-foil-covered boxes. Or that a lot of couples (like my husband and me) just grate up extra cheese for the usual Tuesday night spaghetti. Or that love is not exclusive to twosomes.
No, to her, the holiday is geared toward couples and, therefore, is inherently unfair. ``Don't couples have every Friday night, every Saturday night, every romantic movie, every dinner reservation after 8 at night and every Sunday morning spent reading The New York Times in bed? They get all that, and have a day set aside in their honor?''
To see how common her take on Valentine's Day was, I visited some Internet bulletin boards devoted to singles. And got an earful of angst.
One woman had gone 16 years without getting anything on Valentine's Day from a sweetheart. Then, last year, she fell in love with a man who sent her not one but two valentines, ``so ridiculously romantic I couldn't believe it.''
That one giddy moment made up for all the valentine-free years.
But, as love goes, she and her beau fell out and she's now facing a bleak day. ``I would like to pretend that Valentine's Day will not be happening this year.''
She still sleeps with last year's valentines under her pillow.
But another woman seemed to capture the best side of Valentine's Day. Also celebrating the holiday single, she's sending valentines to friends, relatives, nursing home residents, neighborhood children, all the people she loves and cherishes and just plain likes.
Even people with fleeting appearances - the mailman, the clerk who smiles at the convenience store, the desk mate at work - rate a card.
``If I send valentines to special friends and family, and surprise myself with a big frilly box of chocolates, then I get what I wanted and make other people happy too,'' she says.
Not bad advice. She makes us realize that this thing called love is not relegated to couples in hot embrace. It works best when it's platonic as well as romantic. When it's directed inward as well as outward. And when it's unexpected, with no return address. by CNB