Today is Valentines Eve. I am really excited about being with Brandon for Valentine’s Day. Ever since I was little this was my favorite holiday. The grand and seemingly insignificant gestures of love; all of them seem to have some significance on Valentine’s Day.

Each Valentine’s Day I learn a lesson. Last year after I went out with Tim for three dates my heart was reeling. It might have been the wrong guy and the wrong time but I thought I could have my first possible boyfriend on Valentine’s Day. I was wrong. The weekend before Valentine’s Day he broke it off with me. Emotionally wrecked, I didn't let him stop me from having my fun. That year I learned the importance of having love for myself. It's one of those things you constantly hear from annoying people that think they know everything. The only way to fully appreciate something is by experiencing it. I felt empowered. I don't need someone to complete me, I can complete myself. I had one hundred dollars I had saved from Christmas as rainy day money, and I decided to treat myself to something I wouldn't usually buy myself. This was a first for me. I was my own valentine. Instead of having my mother take pity on my soul, or grouping together with one of my friends and exchanging presents, I treated myself to retro head phones and a Juicy Couture Cupcake Wish Necklace.

This year the lesson is just as important. I learned about giving more than stereo-typical love on Valentine’s Day. More than the normal feelings of love, and the normal presents (don't get me wrong I will be giving that out too) but my darling boyfriends pet rabbit, thumper, died today (usually I don't talk about death but this is significant) and I learned a new stage of love. The stage I mentioned is where you can hold a person seemingly forever without having to say a word to them. Knowing that nothing you could say could be enough to erase the moments previous. He was torn up, he loved Thumper and he was guilt ridden because of not seeing her for a month. I comforted him with this new power of "silently holding him" and when he was ready we talked about it. I offered to bring him home tomorrow (since he is an hour away from without a car). The gift of compassion is something that has many stages and one can't say that they have lived life to the fullest without knowing they were able to be there for someone when words no longer mattered. 

Even with all of these factors about how Valentine’s Day never really amounts to what we expect it to be when we are kids, I still love it. Call me sappy, a hopeless romantic, pansy, dope, or even foolish today; because tomorrow you'll be just like me (or try to be).