The Wrong Kind of Romance

Happy Valentine’s Day.  I hope it unfurls for you like a Hallmark Movie plot, leaving you held tight and gazing into the well-lit eyes of another.  

Thinking about these “romantic” images should make me think about my partner, but instead they feel so divorced from anything I associate with romance, that I ultimately feel like an alien.  An alien that is perhaps too opinionated about human behavior.  And, because of that dissociation from the culture of Valentine’s Day Sentiment, I would like to try and relate the version that resonates most within my particular mortal bones.

Intimacy is a concept that I think is pretty relative to most.  It seems like something that should be more defined, but because it requires a sense of Ego, it’s intrinsically variable.  Conversely, the fundamental premise of sharing one’s closely-held personhood with another is a truly profound idea on paper.  The giving over of one’s fears of rejection, crossing arms, then plunging backwards into the “trust exercise” of real, truthful love is fucking fabulous - on paper.  So, on a day when we are supposed to be ritualistically celebrating the notion that we can, as a species, love - what are the rituals we are actually performing?  What ideas are we figuratively kneeling in front of, with arms outstretched?  

I’ve been accused of “not doing enough” on Valentine’s Day before.  It’s true.  I would ask that you withhold your assumptions on my admission for a moment - but it is true.  I chalk a fair amount of these surprisingly heavy moments to being generally confused about social mores and behaviors and expectations, and physical cues, and verbal subtext, and institutional rules, and…

My point is - I could not accurately guess what people wanted based on unspoken rules, and it was truly befuddling that someone wouldn’t tell me what I should be doing at least one time.  And, the other (total) excuse, is that I was a young, selfish dick.  All in all, I’m not remotely satisfied with how I showed affection for those for which I held tangible affection.  Now I look at my attempt at combining my own instincts of how to give affection with the cultural V-Day virtue signaling - and I just shake my head repeatedly.  These things don’t line up, and the combination is probably the most harrowing and obstacle-laden path on which to embark.  We’ve all stumbled down those worn trails, scraping our knees (?) along the way.  

Looking forward, rather than back, though, certainly seems more fertile than the barren wasteland of my youthful loves.  So, then, what would it look like to clean off the old hearth, scrap the wicker effigy of St. Valentine, and start over?  Let’s first (rightly) assume that I really don’t know what the hell people are doing on the ol’ ‘Tines day.  We all call it that, right?

I know people go to dinner.  I know a lot of dyed roses live a brief moment in grocery stores, then wilt in a vase no one can find deep within a cupboard.  I know people “slip into something more comfortable” and fuuuuuuuuuck.  But, then, why is it so loaded?  Is it too dramatic to think of it as a high-caliber handgun?  Maybe the wrong country to do that.  The humor seems more absurd in Finland.  

If this is a holiday about “showing” your partner you “love them,” then “why” do people march along with such a militaristic dedication to the drum beat of flowers, food, and fucking?  I said I’d get to the version that makes sense to me - well, here it is: the most challenging thing for most of us to do, is to really, really, interrogate what scares you the most about your own affection for others.  What part of yourself - especially in regards to verbalizing and physically communicating - are you going to expose to another person?  Can you look them in the eye and earnestly tell them how much they mean to you and how much gratitude you feel for their presence in your life?  Do you deliberately carve out some space to have a conversation about whatever - like you first did on the phone when you met (if you’re old) or over text if you’re young (?)?  Here’s one: have you firmly realized and sat with how much you really love your partner?  That can be fucking scary.  That shit is real-ass, scary-ass shit right there.  It is SO easy to feel things compartmentally and partially.  Well, that’s subjective - some people FEEEEEEEEEL shit all the time.  I dated a lot of those people because I longed for their easy (and often painful) constant stream of emotion.  Yet, I always felt so many feelings - I never felt lacking in the depth of the well.  I just didn’t realize that I needed to tap into the spring, and find my own conduit and target for all of that…love.  Affection.  Trust.  

It looks like this, for me: wake up in bed, but stay there for a bit so you can hold your partner's body to yours, stank breath or no, for a little while longer than usual.  Get up, have a cup of something together.  Tell your partner, in no uncertain words, that you have so much gratitude for them, it’s genuinely uncomfortable.  Have a big breakfast.  Sit around and talk about whatever you’d like - but pay some real attention to one another.  Make physical contact in little ways, all day.  Then, discuss what each of your ideal evenings looks like, respectively.  They probably aren’t exactly the same.  Compromise.  Show the other person you respect them, and work together to come up with something you can both anticipate and ultimately enjoy.  Just keep it about making your other person feel appreciated.  Sure - that can be flowers, candy, garters - whatever-the-fuck trips your freaky triggers.  The point is, the communication can be - and probably should be - both verbal and physical.  Gifts are fine if they have some personal touch in order to communicate something specific.  Otherwise, that’s just our capitalist dystopia tugging ever-so-gently at your very soul.  Don’t deport meeeeeeeee!

And, then, after all of that stupid, intimate, thoughtful, meaningful contact with each other - you probably will get laid - and it’ll probably be better than whatever your “usual” is. 

Or maybe one (or both) of you work.  So pick another day you can both be off.  Who cares?

Or maybe you’ve got kids, so drop them off with a family member and see the above rule.

Or maybe you haven’t got someone this February - for a variety of legitimate reasons.  And for you, this guide can be used at any time.  You deserve to have that.  And if you don’t deserve it, then you might be a bad person.  I don’t know!!! There are bad people out there!!!

Or, don’t do any of this.  I don’t know.  I’m just over here, trying to not suck at caring for others.

And, to my partner of over thirteen years, I am so grateful and filled with upsetting amounts of affection - I can’t possibly stand it.  It’s too much, and I will only tolerate it until my physical form perishes and I am merely a neuro-electrical memory in time-space.  Eternal.  Knowing that I must have always loved you because time isn’t real and destiny is simply a glimpse of the cosmic fabric that has always been and will always be.  Kisses!