I don’t do Valentines day.
Certainly I have done in the past. When Perrin and I were first together we went through the usual routine; cards, presents, dinner. Each year though it became harder to be ‘more romantic’ than the last and let’s face it, nobody wants to be accused of being less romantic than they used to be.
Humpty Dumpty had the right idea.
“To be sure I was!” Humpty Dumpty said gaily, as she turned it round for him. “I thought it looked a little queer. As I was saying, that seems to be done right—-though I haven’t time to look it over thoroughly just now—-and that shows that there are three hundred and sixty-four days when you might get un-birthday presents—-”
“Certainly,” said Alice.
“And only one for birthday presents, you know. There’s glory for you!”.
It’s the everyday love that really counts. It’s the coffee which Perrin gets out of bed to make for me every morning which means so much, not champagne once a year. (We do drink champagne rather more often than that it’s true). It’s the hugs and support when life is tough. It’s the laughing with me, the holding hands, the adventures planned and enjoyed together, and the confidence he gives me to explore on my own.
The same is true for the other special people in my life too. It’s the time they take to spend with me that matters. It’s the hugs they send when I’m feeling down, even though they can’t be there in person. It’s the smile when we meet, and the kiss when we part.
By the same token, if they don’t already know how I feel then I have failed them. No cards and flowers can help on one day a year if they don’t feel loved already.
The question is not “how do I tell them I love them today”, but “did I show them how I felt yesterday, and how can I show them tomorrow”?
Not that anybody but Perrin would consider me a Valentine if I did do it, of course, but I hope the people I care for know who they are all the same.