VALENTINE'S DAY: "Truly, the Sun Shone Bright for You"

In Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Joel begins his journal entry by opining that “Valentine’s Day is a holiday created by greeting card companies to make people feel like crap.” I, for one can certainly relate, but as the clocked ticked into midnight last night, I decided that I wouldn’t be one of those anti-Valentine’s Day people. It’s really becoming kind of cliché. In fact, it’s almost as cliché as Valentine’s Day in general, and Valentine’s Day is Master of all clichéd days (roses, chocolate, teddy bears, lingerie, diamonds. Pick whichever one corresponds most closely to the level of your relationship, buy it, and take her to dinner. Lather, rinse, repeat as necessary.). Seriously, I can’t believe that boyfriends ever screw Valentine’s Day up. It’s like a free pass to score. But I digress.

So no, that wouldn’t be me. I’m not going to feel like crap today. Honestly, it might be because I’m just so calloused from all the beatings I’ve taken when it comes to love over the last, I dunno, three years or so, but I’d like to just believe that I’m moving into a Brave New World of optimism. But I have a problem—this albatross of a blog. I’ve got to say something today, right? If I simply sit back, and ignore Valentine’s Day, or make some sort of snide remark about it, then it appears I’m ‘feeling like crap,’ which I’ve resolved myself not to do. But y’all expect me to comment on what I’m feeling, because that’s what this blog is for (notice “melodramatic prose” in my profile to your right) à right? So here goes. Today, I’m not going to mourn my lack of love, I’m going to celebrate the love I’ve felt in my life, and I’m going to do it with two almost-quick stories. One for each person I’ve been unequivocally head over heels in love with during my life. I encourage those of you out there to share today, as well. Tell us a story about what you loved, or continue to love, so much about the one you’re with, or the one you’ve lost, or whatever. It can’t hurt to be cheesy sometimes.

I distinctly remember meeting Claire (Alabama Claire, for those of you about to ask ‘which one’) during the early days of freshman year. It was actually my training shift in the cafe’s dishroom. Kup, Taylor, and Pappas were all lined up with me on the slop trough, and there was this positively adorable girl working ‘silver.’ That was Claire. She’s about my height, thin, with brown hair, beautiful eyes, and a southern drawl that I’ll always be a sucker for. I remember glancing her way a few times that shift, trying to accidentally make eye contact or something, like you do when you see a cute girl on the bus. I didn’t get to actually, you know, talk to her, or anything until later into the week, when she came down from the second floor and hung out on the balcony with everyone. One ‘y’all’ later, and I was hooked.

It took all year, really, but I eventually suckered her into falling for me. It was the night of the all-campus formal, and I was going with a friend. As I was leaving my dorm, I realized I had forgotten to take gum, of all things, and ran back to my room to retrieve some. Moments later, as I headed back out the door, Claire came down the stairwell (I don’t even know why…). She was resplendent in her long black dress, and when I looked up and saw her, it was one of only a few times in my entire life I was entirely dumbfounded. The best I could come up with was, “…wow…” we both sort of stared at each other quietly, and ran for the exit. She eventually showed up at the dance, and told me I was the only reason she came, and asked me to dance with her. We kissed for the first time that night, out on the dance floor, and it was all as melodramatic as it sounds. We had one of those very short, magical, amazing romances, that ended when she went back home to the South, never to return. What I loved about Claire was that she was probably the one person I’ve ever met that’s more melodramatic than me. That always kept things beautiful and crazy and interesting, though I often felt that she was never really listening to me. Which is how Carolyn trumped her.

Care and I seem to only really date each other during summers. The first summer, back in 2001 (which feels like a lifetime ago), we were a good 45 minutes apart. I was working in Harrisburg and she was in Hershey, but I was living in Carlisle with Kup. We were fratting it up in the cafe-workers’ house, and having a grand old time. His girlfriend at the time was Carolyn’s sister, so the logic writes itself. She’s about my height, thin, with brown hair, amazing eyes, and the best laugh. She and I hit it off, in that we enjoyed being around each other. I can’t say that we fell for each other overnight, or anything remotely romantic like that. No, we did it the old fashioned way. We went on dates and got to know each other and it all just sort of happened. It’s such a blur, that summer, either because it feels like it never happened, or because I’ve spent so much time of late, trying to bury it all away, that I can’t see it clearly.

In any event, my 21^st birthday was that summer. I did the obligatory shot-fest at the Carlisle G-Man the night I turned, then awoke sometime around noon or 1 or something, I dunno, because I had to go drive and meet Carolyn. I was driving “the Russian,” back then, my old Blue Subaru hatchback that spent more time breaking down than it did running. All-in-all, she was a great car, but that day, driving all the way to Care’s house, she overheated. Twice. I thought I’d never get there, and her friends Lara and Erin were particularly pissed at me by the time I finally got to her house. See, they were supposed to escort me to find Carolyn, and I had gummed up the works by being mad-late, and not calling (what could I do? My first cell phone was a full year away).

When they finally dropped me off, I was led to a clearing along the Appalachian Trail, where Carolyn was awaiting me with a picnic and some Dave Matthews Band tickets for that night. The tickets aside, it was the picnic that did it. Somewhere, in some random email conversation, we had discussed favorite sandwhiches, as more of an aside than anything. And here, she had prepared me my favorite lunch. It wasn’t that she had did something sweet (although that was part of it) it was that she listened. And she always listened. Whether it was buying me a new copy of my favorite book (though I had only mentioned giving it away once, in passing), or remembering everything from my favorite superheroes to salad dressings, she just listened. Melodrama was over-rated, and there are a ton of reasons why I fell in love with her, but it’s mainly because she got me, which happened because she took the time to do it.

I lost Claire when she moved away, and I lost Carolyn when I wouldn’t let her get close enough to stay, and though I’ll be spending this Valentine’s Day watching 24 with Aunt Paulette and Pizz, I won’t feel like crap. No, I’ll sit happily knowing that I am capable of caring for someone like I have them, and knowing that I can be touched and affected like that. And that’ll do for now, because it’s only a matter of time before it happens again.

It is, after all, a brave new world.

Happy Valentine’s Day to you all,

-apk