Sat in my university’s library, coffee by my side and every intention of paying attention to my online lecture, I can’t help my eyes flitting back as groups of students pass me by. With every face that walks past, I catch myself thinking about how each of these anonymous beings are at the centre of their personal universes, tackling their individual struggles and standing front stage of their own dramas.
Inadvertently picking up on which friend ‘snaked’ who and the multitude of other out of context conversations that I hear, there is a specificity to everyone’s experience in this shared space, regardless of how universal the issues may seem. But amongst it all, I can’t help but recognise a new energy, a slightly different franticness that doesn’t come with the usual essay deadline panic. Then it whips past me, and then again, and then one more time followed by another. Within the kerfuffle of conversations and passing comments, one thing is constant on the tongues of each of my peers. The Valentine’s Day dilemma.
In the twenty minutes that I had been in my study booth, the name of St. Valentine flew past my ears from every other group that shuffled around me. Each muttering of the day with its own emotional undertone tethered to it sparked memories of my own experiences over the years but got me thinking about the universal nature of such, both evoking a nostalgic fondness and deliberate amnesia to the moments we dare not speak of. But as I reflected on my own debacles and debauchery over the years, I started to think, what is this Valentine’s Day dilemma that we haven’t quite figured out yet, and why do we keep coming back for more?
Romantic rollercoaster
Either a source of romantic optimism or cynical disdain, against all better judgement, Valentine’s Day remains a topic that crosses everyone’s mind at least once as soon as the start of February strikes. The day intended to celebrate romantic love and even friendship has evolved into the commercial celebration of gift-giving and couple goals. Starting off with idealistic intentions, my youthful heart fluttered at the sight of friends receiving a candy gram or mysterious love letter, and the hope that one was on its way to me.
From school girl crushes that compelled me to bake red velvet cupcakes for the jazz band guitarist to (finally) receiving a single rose on my desk at the start of third period, the innocence of my outlook really just embodied the sole desire for the Disney channel love storyline. Valentine’s Day was simply a moment to fawn over school ground heartthrobs and temporary relationship dramas that always ended up with a giant teddy bear and box of Quality Street by the end of the day.
Then one day, with the ever-presence of talking stages and Snapchat pop-ups, relationships in every stage transcended the simplicities of school ground love birds, and crushes became just a little harder to get over. What was once a few tears shed over finding out feelings were not mutual, quickly turned into replaying how I ended up face down in my pillow over a guy that wasn’t as single as he had said.
Whilst in hindsight red flags were disregarded for the sake of idiotic infatuations, that singular version of the same day that comes around every year chewed me up and spat me out, surrounding me with half-empty pizza boxes and milkshakes (I am not proud, but we move on). Finding myself in the wrong role of my romantic comedy, the rationality of my Virgo sun flicked me across the ears, locking out love and returning to the celebration of what would stay forever. Friendship.
Girls need love too… I guess
With every pizza box discarded and tissue thrown away, Galentine’s Day came to save me from the depths of despair that I so desperately needed to escape from. After blasting hours of heartbreak anthems, sashaying into our Uber and heading to the club, Calzone crumbs and milkshake moustaches were a thing of the past.
As time went on and we got deeper into the night, I couldn’t help but think, this had to be it, the solution to the Valentine’s Day dilemma that had me in a Stockholm syndrome type of captivity. No more being roped in by the love hearts and single stem roses from flimsy flings or caring about fickle heartbreaks. Proudly the poster girl for platonic love in that very moment, sadly I wouldn’t have wisened up as much as I thought I would. With those strobe light memories a thing of the past, I wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation of romantic tearjerkers and the desire for that in my own reality.
Love and let go
From heartbreaks to social highs and back down to the trenches again, February 14th is a mysterious and relentless beast. With the optimism of better days one year and the possibility to make you question your own belief in love the next, what keeps drawing us in? But maybe that’s just it. Maybe the answer to our love-struck madness is intertwined with the chaos of it all. As I think back to those individual tales of Valentine’s Day torment from the voices in the library, amongst the disdain and disappointment was the hint of reluctant acceptance.
The Valentine’s Day dilemma with all its uncertainty is the allure that appeals to our innate curiosity; whether it be stemmed from human nature or simple foolishness. Every year we subconsciously evolve, utilising all those horrible experiences and nostalgic memories to influence how we approach the inevitable swinging around of Valentine’s Day. No frivolous fumble of our emotions will ever be significant enough to prevent us from satiating the hope for better times next year. So neglecting all that is rational, we embrace the celebration in all its cheesy glory, wiping away tears of sadness one year and happily moving on to the next.
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Written by Kianna Best
Illustrated by Francesca Mariama
