
I find it interesting (and more than a little amusing) that St. Valentine, the man for which Valentine’s Day is named, was actually beheaded several hundred years ago on the day we celebrate. Therefore, we do not celebrate love, for which St. Valentine was not even famous for (his “Saintly responsibilities” involved beekeeping and epilepsy), but instead we celebrate death. Quite a concept, is it not?
I have a love/hate relationship with Valentine’s Day. More than once have I made a complete fool of myself for romance. One such day, about five years ago, I went to great lengths to put a handwritten valentine on the doorstep of my then-crush, even walking almost a mile in the pitch black African bush at 4:00 in the morning. My reward? Absolutely nothing, she never even acknowledged its existence, and is now dating my best friend, a source of enormous amusement to myself and my family. Now, five years later, I am increasingly reminded of the lengths we, as humans, will go to in order to prove our affection for a member of the opposite gender.
Continue reading “The Valentine’s Day Dilemna”