Being single the last 13 years on this day has perhaps left me a bit wounded. I dated, but never on or around V-Day. It's not that I require some prince to swoop me off to a weekend get-away filled with roses, champagne and expensive dinners to celebrate our "love" for each other, it is more that this day always made me feel more single. And trust me, I am/was a professional at being single and most of the time it didn't bother me to the point where I felt inferior. But V-Day always made it look like I was walking around with a scarlet letter on my forehead signaling for sympathy and such from others who were celebrating their unions of love/lust/like with another.
Love is beautiful.
Love is wonderful.
Love is to be shared.
Love can be yelled from the mountain tops.
I love love.
Though, I don't think I've ever really been "in love". Not quite sure that even make total sense. How can I love something I know I've never had. Because I just have expectation of and for it and that is enough for me. I have loved past suitors, but I don't think I truly understood the real meaning of fully giving yourself to someone and being completely in love.
I can't wait for that.
In the meantime, Honey Boo Boo's mother found love. Glad I wasn't aware of this in years past when I was single. Because that just would have equated to me stuffing myself silly with a greasy burger, copious heapings of cheese fries and a milkshake.
This year, while I do have a date it wasn't exactly planned for this particular day, it just sort of happened. We don't see each other that often so we steal days we can. Just happens I get to spend time with a sweet, sweet boy this evening.
In the meantime, let me leave you with this. Because, who doesn't want to spread love?