February 2, 2010 by Sarah S.
In my recent post about the gloominess of February, I mentioned something about being perpetually disappointed by Valentine’s Day. HTB read this, of course, and it sparked a discussion that really got me thinking. When I made that remark, I honestly wasn’t thinking “Oh, I always have sucky Valentine’s Days, blah blah.” What I was trying to get across, was that the reality of Valentine’s Day never actually measures up to my ideal of what Valentine’s Day should be.
How … wonky?
Well, not really, when you think about it. I have so many things that I idealize. I create these perfect images of what they should be, and then when reality shows itself to be something different, I’m invariably disappointed. Let’s take, for example, our proposal. I had dreamed about this day for years (three, to be exact) and I wasn’t sure exactly how it would play out, but I had several acceptable versions that included complete and utter surprise, tears, so many roses, champagne, and maybe even a violin or two. In reality… Well, let’s just say I sniffed out the plan and ruined it with my big nose. The ring wasn’t a surprise because we picked it out together (which I prefer, actually!), and I pretty much gave myself a handful of gray hairs freaking out waiting for HTB to get home, because I knew the proposal was coming! Now, would I have changed a thing? No. It’s our story.
And that’s the concept I’m mulling over right now. I really do let myself get caught up in the idyllic. It’s a lose-lose situation, because it’s easy to get disappointed, and even easier to forget to appreciate and love the amazing moments that make up your own life, not the life carefully crafted through television, movies, songs, and books. I think about the things that I hold most dear to my heart, and that fill me with “romantic-ness” in regards to HTB, and they aren’t Valentine’s Day, they aren’t a perfect dozen roses, they aren’t a piece of jewelry or a an expensive dinner. They are little moments, like sitting at the kitchen and playing cards, the 3-4 hour conversations we used to have before we lived together. The hanging up the phone and calling right back to say just “one more thing.” The way he always opens doors for me. How, when I meet one of his co-workers for the first time, they know way too much about me because he’s been chatting me up for so long. It’s the little piece of scrap paper I found, from a very rough patch we had earlier in our relationship, where he bullet-pointed his thoughts: Can’t imagine my life without you. Don’t want to. The unconditional support and the way he may get discouraged by how difficult I can be… but he never gives up. Those are the reasons I love him and those are the things that make me happy at any given point in time. They are what matter.
So, as this particular Valentine’s Day rolls around, I’m going to try something new and not worry about how it should be, and just enjoy how it is. It’s ours and that makes it perfect, for me.
I will now step away from the sappy seat and return to photographing my food.