The Wake

More couples break up on Valentine’s Day than any other day of year.

Surprised? Given that everyone takes the frivolous festival way too seriously, this shouldn’t register as a shock. Just when you think you’re clear of another heavily commercialized holiday season, businesses and the media give you another excuse to splurge on worthless clutter. Never mind that your checkbook has yet to recover—now you’re obligated to buy flowers, cards, candies, jewelry, stuffed bears, little pink hearts and cupids for your sweetheart. What’s worse, the unattached are left out and made to look a fool. Valentine’s Day marks that special time of year when people are expected to either give in to those warm, squishy feelings or slide deeper into the despairs of sexual frustration. I, for one, see through the lies clouding the minds of those on either side of this deadly divide. Stop planning, take a moment to evaluate and the futility of it all will be made clear.

Let me just say that Valentine’s Day isn’t even a real holiday. In 1969, the Catholic Church realized that St. Valentine was more myth than man and abolished his saint’s day. Still, every year without fail, the symptoms are everywhere. Almost every storefront screams of the same sappy, idealistic love that seems so tired and unconvincing within the backdrop of reality. The notion of equating impulse buys to unconditional love has made February 14th another reminder of the pitfalls of materialism. Consumers under the spell of this evil, false holiday often convince themselves into being moved by the gesture of a giant bear or a lavish bouquet. The reality is that Valentine’s Day gifts can needlessly justify or strain a relationship. People will attempt to express feelings they don’t possess or smother a good situation with a pricey piece of commitment jewelry.

A quick glance at the unspoken etiquette involved exposes more ridiculousness. Guys are taught to pamper their ladies with prepackaged sentiment, usually coupled with a romantic rendezvous, preplanned and prepaid, of course. This can lead to a quiet tension between men, stemming from rivalries over who’s secured the best dinner arrangements. There should be limits to what a guy will do for sex. Girls ogle over and judge each others’ gifts, or lack thereof. To some, finding the perfect greeting card for the occasion is a matter of life or death. If you’re gonna say it, don’t pay someone to say it for you.

What if you don’t have a special someone? In recent years, the indifferent, inadequate and awkward have resorted to creating their own anti-holiday: Singles Awareness Day. Participants take this as an opportunity to revel in the single life, usually carried out by exerting their independence or buying things. Giving in to the desperation brought on by society’s pressure to get romantically involved, they pull the shades, plant themselves on the couch, and watch the most violent flick they can find. Others have “Singles Awareness” parties, where they exchange gifts, drink copious amounts and vent about their failed attempts at courtship.

I don’t agree with any of this. The real way to resist Valentine’s Day is by not acknowledging it to begin with. Why deal with all the shitty self-evaluation that comes along with going out of your way to avoid every last pink balloon and kissing couple? If you oppose making even the slightest adjustment to your daily routine, you’ve got Valentine’s Day by the balls. Furthermore, any attempt to fill the void by procuring a personal truckload of Sweethearts and gobbling them down in secret is doomed to failure. It’s only a matter of time before their soft-spoken little carvings will reduce you to what Hallmark expects: a miserable single on Valentine’s Day. Silly consumer, love messages are for couples.

Others still insist that February 14th is about spreading goodwill to all. They tell us to wish a perfect stranger on the street corner a Happy Valentine’s Day and scamper off with glee. This is the same as getting pinched on St. Patrick’s Day for not wearing green. The fact that it’s supposed to be a gesture of kindness just adds to the irritation. As I have demonstrated, the real joy of this Hallmark holiday is reserved for society’s cynical non-participants, who are struck with a tinge of sympathy as their committed friends leave to make that dreaded trip to the florist. “Poor guy,” we say to ourselves.

It’s ironic that Chaucer’s poem, which first associated the Feast of St. Valentine with birds choosing their mates, was actually in reference to May 3rd. Maybe that’s why this holiday sucks so hard. It goes against nature itself to force romance amidst the bleakness of mid-February. If only society could take a hint.