An OMFG Valentine

I want to hate Valentine's Day. I really do. I want to cringe at every love song I hear, roll my eyes at couples who engage in inappropriate PDA and suppress an urge to gag whenever I pass a florist -- and considering the year I've had, I have every reason to despise the holiday....but I just can't seem to shake my love for all things romantic. Oh yes, the hopeless romantic is an old adage becoming seemingly less and less relevant in today's modern world, but it still holds true for me and is also (inconveniently to say the least) a pretty accurate description of my character as well. Let me add that my hopeless romanticness kicks in with the presence of love...otherwise I'm prone to all sorts of less-than-romantic behaviour like I'm sure all of us single and in our twenties are...but that's a whole other blogpost in itself!
Another reason I should hate Cupid's day is because way back when, I worked for Hallmark when I was in high school, and let me tell you, if working at a card store doesn't put you off holidays, nothing will. Stuffed bears that light up and sing you My Girl, anthropomorphized roses that light up and sing you I'll Be...pretty much any and all remotely love-related items were made to light up and sing, Hallmark style, and were played over and over again by those browsing...and I still don't hate the day! I blame my unending belief in love on my lovely parents. They moved to Toronto together from Hong Kong in 1975 with not much more than each other, were married the same year quietly in the presence of a couple friends, and are still happily together 35 years later, all while building an amazing life of opportunities for themselves as well as myself, my sister and my brother. When you've been in the presence of something so strong your entire life, I guess it only makes sense as to why the standard I have for what love can do is raised so high.
I have never seen my parents fight to a level more than light bickering over logistics, or where to go for dinner. (My mom declares Chinese food for the win, always.) Otherwise, they are, and remain, a united front that runs like a well-oiled machine; efficiently, effectively and ridiculously in sync. In the midst of my own relationship turmoil, I once asked my mom if she ever went through rough phases with my dear old dad. "Never. Every day is happy. Always happy." To say I let out a sigh of exasperation would be putting it mildly. Yes, I admire my parents and what they have to no end, but am also aware that they have set the bar so exceptionally high that I know I'm pretty much screwed, love-wise, in my unrealistic expectations. Actually, if my mom wasn't in the car with me when I asked, I probably would have breathed out an "ohhhh fuck" or two. Or three.
Of course my parents grew up in a simpler, more traditional time compared to the jaded post-modern world we kids live in now, and perhaps that in itself is why their union appears to be a rarity in our twenties. A healthy dose of fresh naivety (of which, if my past experiences have taught me anything, I have an abundance of) never hurts. So tomorrow, all you darling bloggees, I hope you celebrate Valentine's Day with all the lovey-doveyness you can stand. Be romantic. Be illogical. Be hopeless if only for a day. Just don't buy your significant other anything that lights up and sings, or it'll probably be your last February 14th spent together.
And finally, a lovely little quote I read the other day: "It is well for the heart to be naive and the mind not to be,"
x