life after the sonnet
We will not be celebrating today. Never have. Never will. Don't feel bad, it's certainly not because we don't like each other anymore. I suppose it's because we choose our silly and meaningless traditions a little more selectively than most people. Please don't take offense, if you are into it, that's great. All I am saying is that you will not catch us running out at the last minute to pick up a heart shaped box of tasteless chocolates to compliment the over priced card we already purchased. You know the ones, emblazoned with the most saccharine sweet lines of generic prose you can get your mitts on! Nope, not gonna do it. Call me an asshole if you want. Call me a party pooper. Or better yet, tell me it doesn't have to be generic. Tell me to be creative; do something different. Something from the heart. Sorry, I still say no way. I call bullshit on the whoooole thing.
Before we go any further I think I should make it clear, I do not fault anyone for wanting to make a big deal about how much they love someone. However, I personally cannot subscribe to this totally untruthful version of it. Unfortunately for me, I am the minority. I should probably shut the hell up, put on my happy face and buy that fucking hot pink teddy bear already.
I have to believe there is some underlying reason why people feel they need to act as though love only comes from some syrup factory in lala land. But who is to blame? I suppose blaming media is the easy way out. Not to mention, it is probably exactly what you would expect from someone rambling on about not buying into the commercialization of love. So, even at the risk of sounding cliche, I am gonna do it. I am going to point the finger, because I am fairly certain I have found the culprit. The root of all this nonsense!
So I blame you, fictitious English gentleman. It has to be you. You and your PBS good looks (whatever that means). So dapper. Sooooo charming! You, with your impeccable grammar, spewing out old world poetry so effortlessly; and totally from memory. Ugh. Living all cozy in your Edwardian manor! Damn you! Or what if you are not a gentleman at all? Maybe came from the total boot end of the social hierarchy. Perhaps you are a servant, or just a nobody peasant (but with charisma and dashing good looks, obviously). You always start as a victim of circumstance, only to find yourself in the throes of passion with the most improbable lover. I really don't know how you do it! Even I want to love you! But I can't, you won't let me! No matter what end of the scale you are on, it always ends the same. Everyone is wildly in love. But, you always leave before we can truly be together. You always have to go and get cholera, or sink to the depths on a doomed ship headed for the new world. Or you head off to war, and you have the nerve to not return. Well, it needs to stop!
You sir(s) are really screwing things up. People are crazy for your stories. But, they are only getting half of it. These far fetched tales of the fiery, wild eyed love are useless if you never get to see it through. I wish for once you would come back from the great beyond to finish what you started. I need you to finish the story.
I need you to come back and make a few more episodes, maybe write another chapter. I need to know about the first time you see Milady workin' some sort of undergarment that looks as though, it too, died in the war. I need to know about her reaction to the first time she experiences the aftermath of you over indulging at the Fancy Pants ball. Does she clean you up, and take you home? Do you run out of things to gush over? What happens after all the newness wears off? I am asking, because you never quite get there.
I can't really blame anyone. People love to parade around with pretty ideas, myself included. At times, it certainly can seem more romantic to leave out the grittier parts, and just believe half the story. This is where my problem lies. Those times in a relationship are great. So new and passionate. But don't so may relationships start that way? Just try and tell me that you can't think of at least one person who you wouldn't feel too bad about never seeing again, with whom you spent some really good times with. Just think about that for a minute. Would it still make for a good story? I say no! Good god, no!
It doesn't have to be this way. There has to be a way we can all express how we feel without selling ourselves short. I believe you should show your love everyday. I could probably even get behind the idea of Valentines day, as long as we all agreed to be a little more honest about it from here on out.
So, to get the ball rolling, I have come up with some ideas for the aforementioned cards that are a little more honest.
I like your sweatpants, Valentine!
Thanks for loving me, even after that one thing.
Wake up, Valentine!
I picked you up some of beef jerky, Sweetheart!
I'm sweet on you, because you remembered to brush!
Life after the sonnet. Love that will last, despite the grit. Now that, I will celebrate.