Happy St. Valentine's Day

St. Valentine's day, a day of full mysterious history and stories, but in the modern days, it is known to be a day to celebrate love, particularly in romance. On this day, it is easy to spot who the people are single or coupled by the number of gifts or flowers they receive or the sum of hateful memes they post on social media about how much they find this day to be repulsive. I have had some experience to celebrate this romantic day in the past with my failed relationships. But looking back, none were exactly "sweeping off my feet." However, I always seemed to know how to sweep theirs. And to be honest, I can't even remember what we did to celebrate St. Valentine's day. I think there were some dinner plans, or maybe watch a movie at home, but that's about it. Again, my feet were never swept. Perhaps we only celebrated it was due to the social norm and the label of relationship. Therefore, it would seem improper not to observe this social holiday. Or maybe the reason why I was never excited about it was the feeling of not feeling anything. It was like being penetrated by a two inches penis; no matter how hard he pounds, you just can't feel a thing. It leaves an awful taste to your soul. Therefore, over time, I become disinterested in it. 

This year was notably different. It is the first time ever I had to celebrate St. Valentine's Day from a long distance. So, I knew I had to be creative, especially the birthday gift that I got him didn't seem to work out as well as the way I envisioned it (that is another story). I started researching for ideas and presents three weeks ahead of time. I've looked through hundreds of European websites, delivery services companies, and searched many romantic movie quotes that I can use as a love note. Finally, I've found what I think to be the perfect gift for him. Throughout this whole week, I have been teasing him about what it is about to come. However, just like any first-time sexual encounter, no matter how much you prepare, it always has some bumps along the way. For a whole week, I have been picturing the look on his face when he finally receives the big love package — imagining how the delivery man will surprise him out of nowhere and hand-delivered my regalos to him. However, some got delivered a day early, and some is missing a note. In the end, all's well, ends well. He received all the gifts and enjoyed each of them. Seeing that smile on his face was pure joy for me, I felt so warm looking at his selfies with the gifts I got him. But little did I know he also has a plan of his own. 

Javi is a talented artist. His hands are very gifted in so many ways that they can transcend the cartridge paper and my body into a work of art. His creative talent is one of the many characteristics that is why I fall in love with him. Turnout, his Valentine's Day's gift for me, is his drawing. As I see how tiresome he gets and how much work he put into it, it makes my silly presents seem minimal. Because he is a perfectionist, he didn't want to show me what he had so far on the day of Valentine. But, looking at how he was trying to make it perfect, he has gotten my feet swept. I never have anyone who always seems to know how I think and what I want.

Watching how much effort Javi put into the drawing got me to realize that I had never received such a meaningful gift, which can touch my heart. Because the gifts I received in the past were just objects that I can buy on my own, it doesn't necessarily have a sentimental value to them. Growing up from a single-parent household, I often felt neglected when it comes to feeling loved. My mom would generally give me twenty bucks as presents for any occasion. There was never a birthday dinner, thanksgiving meal, Christmas tradition, etc. I think it was her way to protect me from not being reminded that our family was not wholesome. And because of it, I often found gifts without effort is meaningless. However, does that mean my exes had never put in effort into the gifts they bought? No, but somehow I never felt the sentiment behind them. What I desire isn't something that can be purchased. For someone who grew up from a broken home, what I genuinely fancy for is the simple thing in life, those small gestures that show this person understands me and recognize the only thing I need is affection.  

A drawing that he had worked on for days and sleepless nights, it shows I matter to him. He somehow knew that I would much prefer his artworks than anything else in the world because that drawing represents his love for me. Love cannot be bought. You either do or don't. When he had finally shown me his finished masterpiece, it immediately brought me to tear, even now, as I am reliving the memory. He drew the animated version of us, holding hands, with me walking in the front as if I am leading him to our many adventures. It was simple, straightforward, innocent; it is us. For the longest, I felt alone walking on my path, searching aimlessly for something that cannot be bought. In all my relationships - friendship, family, romance, not once had I truly felt comforting that I am not walking alone on this path that we called life. Somehow he knows what I want, and need is pure love. That pure, innocent love that can bring back a dead man back to life. Like Snow White woke up from her slumber by a true love kiss from Prince Charming. Or Belle turned the Beast back to his human form with her love. That's the power of his love, his masterpiece. He shows me that I am no longer walking alone by myself. Since I was a kid, I often imagined myself trapped inside a cargo box, sunk deep in the ocean, and desperately hoping for someone who can reach far enough into the sea and pull me up. Today, he did precisely that. He knew how lonely I have been; understood the agony I endure; realized despite my hard, thorny carapace, all I want is to be held and told that it is all fine now, now the nightmare is finally over. For the longest, I felt like I am homeless within my world, but now I am home. I like doing house chores with him because it makes me feel like we are taking care of our home. That apartment is more than just a roof over my head. It is a place where I feel the safest. When I am wrapped around in his arms, I feel protected. And that is what I intend to do for him every day. I wish my parents were still here to witness the joy I am experiencing and to know what an amazing man he is. I know they would be proud and feel at peace, knowing that I have found my one true valentine. Maybe someway, somehow, they are the ones who found him and guided him to me. So their lonely son will no longer be homeless anymore.