At the risk of being a buzzkill on this day of hearts and roses, I must admit that I do not celebrate Valentine’s Day. For this I have my husband’s eternal gratitude as he can go about his business each February while ignoring the barrage of commercials telling him what an absolute spousal failure he will be if he does not buy me this exact diamond pendant or that specific dangly charm bracelet. No, there are no special dinner reservations or floral deliveries headed my way today, and I am all in favor of that.
Since I’m in a disclosure kind of mood I may as well admit that I do not like romantic comedies or romance novels either. I understand they can serve as escapist guilty pleasures, but I have to say for the most part they leave me feeling unfulfilled. I do not like the way they set men, and women for that matter, up to fall short in real life of the great romantic feats and gestures of the cinema.
By now I’ve probably convinced you that I should head up the local chapter of the new Love Haters Club. I promise you this is not the case. In reality I am in love with love. I just happen to be in love with the kind of love that happens, well, in reality. Continue reading