The kids have been busy coloring and writing valentines, cupcakes have been sprinkled and I have cinnamon hearts on my mind. It’s February 14th, 2019 – my first Valentine’s Day without my valentine.
In truth I didn’t think this day would shake me up, we’d never been big on the occasion, that said, it was never overlooked. I have a stash of carefully chosen valentine cards in a drawer; some funny, some sweet; that he gave me over the years but I can’t bear to look at them right now. I don’t need a reminder of the affection I’m missing or the sentiment. I know I was loved and I miss that love every day.
I was lucky right from the getgo, he liked giving me flowers almost as much as I liked getting them – and not just for Valentine’s Day, sometimes because it was Tuesday or because it was raining. I miss flowers on the kitchen counter. I miss being thought of on random days, being acknowledged.
I woke up this morning with an ache in my chest, a physical emptiness, and have spent most of the day trying to talk myself out of being sad. I haven’t been very convincing, my heart still aches tonight.
Lots of people spend Valentine’s Day alone imagining what other people are doing to celebrate this designated day of love; picturing all the couples sharing starry eyed glances, whispered intimacies and subtle flirtations. Lots of people feel left out and lonely. That’s not what I’m doing today – I’m remembering.
Valentine’s Day is only one of 365 days in a year, at its heart it is just another day, another day I’ve spent missing the guy who still holds my heart.