Originally written in The W(H)INE Monologue April 2014
An old blog I wrote but never posted…
For some, expressions of love are simply expected tokens taken for granted. For others, expressions of love are insignificant and forgotten. One is equally bad as the other because they both represent just how careless people are with their love and those they claim to love.
Careless love #1 – The sweet, sweet boy presents his beautiful girl with a dozen pink tipped roses as a gesture of Valentine’s love. She hungrily grabs the roses and beams a toothy, joyful smile. Eyes twinkling, she crushes her face into the bouquet and inhales their intoxicating and rosy scent. She girlishly tells her beau, “Thank you” with a kiss on the cheek.
She’s enamored by the attention and his affectionate gesture and yet, when she arrives home, she carelessly tosses the roses on her unmade bed. She rushes here and there, hurriedly preparing for a sleep over with her friend and bolts out the door. There they lay, discarded among her clothes, in their clear cellophane wrapper, thirsty for a love’s touch and a quenching vase of water.
Careless love #2 – He wakes early, softly whispers, “Happy Valentine’s Day” and warmly wraps his arms around her before falling fast asleep. She lies there thinking, “maybe this time he’s actually bought a card or splurged on a bouquet of wild flowers”. She’s not the rose type of girl but wild flowers brighten her mood just as much as they cheer up any room. With excited thoughts of the day ahead, she snuggles into his arms and sleeps a little longer.
Later, she wakes and gingerly places his Valentine card on his desk. Like an excited child on Christmas morning, she searches the house for some sort of Valentine token. Is it here? Is it there? Where can it be? There’s nothing…and as she goes about her morning routines, she’s plagued by the attempt to rationalize his thoughtlessness and her heart breaks just a little bit more.
Have you ever noticed the symbolism between the Valentine Cupid, his nasty, flesh piercing arrows and the realities of love’s pain? I mean really! The person who coined the phrase “struck by Cupid’s arrow” has a seriously twisted, warped, and sadistic sense of humor. He …or she…was obviously quite familiar with the panging pains of love.
Whether it’s old or new, love is painful. Sometimes that barbed arrow neatly grazes the surface, leaving a stinging flesh wound in its wake. Other times, the dagger thrusts in deep, lodging itself in the most tender of places. In either case, once that bull’s eye searching arrow hits its mark, the pain felt from love’s first embrace is nothing compared to the flesh ripping arrow extraction.
Careless love #2 continued – Distraught, she succumbs to the hurt, pain, and anger of not just one misplaced Valentine gesture but the many…many overlooked, neglected, and seemingly unimportant gestures and tokens of love and affection. The tidal wave of heart wrenching pain rushes over her. She sobs, realizing all the “tokens” have always come from her. She says the “I love you’s.” She never misses a moment to warmly greet him with a kiss when she gets home from work. She hugs him. She touches him. Smiles at him. She holds his hand. She makes his morning coffee and expresses her love in so many ways that he doesn’t. As she fights back the tears, she chides herself and in her head, “This is STUPID! I’m upset about VALENTINE’S Day?!”
But it isn’t just about THIS day. It’s about the other 365 gesture-less days, too. It’s about feeling just as insignificant as the carelessly tossed roses. It’s his lack of affection and attention and his inability or unwillingness to demonstrate his love in a way other than buying stuff that means more to him than to her.
It’s about how careless his love really is.