An Hysteric’s Guide to Valentine’s Day

If there is one special, romantic, loving day of the year that can really make you feel totally depressed, enraged and betrayed, it’s Valentine’s Day.  If you don’t have a Valentine on Valentine’s day, it’s bad. But having someone acknowledge you on Valentine’s Day can be just as horrendous, and can give you a feeling that you are hopelessly unloved, even if someone is screaming at you that, in fact, you are loved. There’s something about the reds and the pinks and the candies and the flowers that really fuels the fires of hysteria. No matter how nice Valentines Day can be, there is a veritable feast of ways you can find to ruin it and hate it. You can be fully assured, with only a small effort, that Valentine’s Day is nothing short of a satanic ritual, a personal insult or a harbinger of bad tidings regarding your future love life and marriage.

All the pain started back in Kindergarten when teachers, with the best of intentions, placed the little cardboard mailboxes in their classrooms and waited for their students to fill them with Valentines. The moms of the late 60’s bought the Valentines for us, but we were the wicked little children who signed them and decided who would . . . and who would not . . . receive them. Some little girls didn’t get very many, and some bereft boys got none. These are the very same boys who grew up to ruin our economy and poison our vulnerable environment. The girls who were spurned also took out their revenge on society in equally destructive ways. Some went to work for Entertainment channel so that they could, without shame, wreak their revenge on the celebrities whom they imagined had received more Valentines in their mailbox than they had.  Today, thankfully, everyone in the class has to receive a Valentine from everyone else. In one sense, this is a merciful solution to the exclusionary nature of Valentine’s Day. On the other hand, however, it’s a bit of a sad nod to Communism.  Just think of how hard we fight against that political philosophy, every day, all over the world. How tragically ironic that we need to turn into Communist regime in order to ward off the inevitable suffering brought on by an American tradition.

Of course, for the greatest level of anxiety and disappointment that can be experienced on Valentine’s Day, one need look no further than their own backyard.  In a love relationship, all occasions for gifts hold the promise of despair and rage. None though, can be compared to the lump in the throat, the tears welling in the eyes, and the sullen silences inspired when one’s beloved gives them a bad present on Feb. 14.  A box of candy can so easily say,  “You think I’m fat and this is the only thing I’d enjoy,” or,“ You think I’m fat and you know I’ve given up, so I might as well just continue my descent into the oblivion of obesity,” or, “You used to give me flowers, now you give me candy because you associate me with food, and not passion, proving that you no longer want me.”  On the other hand red roses can prove that your love is standard, unoriginal and that either you, your loved one, or your relationship has disintegrated into a bland cliché. Jewelry is a sure admission of infidelity otherwise a simple gift of love should suffice. Exactly what are you trying to hide? A card is generic and insulting. A note is poorly worded and open to misreading. Restaurants are packed, so if you haven’t made your reservation by 2001 then you can’t get a table, which proves you don’t really love your Valentine. Doom lurks behind every half bitten chocolate, and in the end, all the hearts are broken.

As in all things desperate though, it is always possible to make lemonade out of whatever is on hand. It can be noted that the angst of Valentine’s Day seems exclusive to the exchanges made between men and women or boys and girls.  There are cases where Valentines are received and offered as tokens of love and warmth alone. The daughter who makes a little heart cut from paper and gives it to her mother at the end of a long school day; the grandma who has made special pink cupcakes for the grandkids, who in turn cover her with kisses; the daddy who brings his kids some chocolates that he picked up at the Service Mart because the Merritt was so jammed up by Valentines Day traffic; these are the lucky survivors of the harrowing day. Even the lover who asks nothing but to give love, and has the expectation that love for its own sake is more than enough, can actually have a   rewarding day. So if you want a Valentine beware—instead, think of giving a Valentine that is composed of nothing more than love. Love is low in calories and ultimately love is the only Valentine that really lasts.