Dia de los Enamorados

The Christian-memoir superstud Donald Miller (crush-o-mine), says that for him, the idea of having a father around-- all present and loving is quite like the idea of owning a dragon. It is a fascinating daydream arousing the curiosity and doubtless fulfilling a few other intellectual needs. But ultimately it is a “what if” and these particular sorts of what’ifs tend to be dead-ends, if we are all honest about it. And that is exactly what the ideas of love and marriage have become like for me. Occasionally someone who hasn’t known me long enough to have ever experienced me in a fugue of love or heartbreak will innocently ask if I have any desire for matrimony and all of its subsequent implications, and I think, “why, yes, that would be nice—as would the ability to becomes invisible or experience telepathy, so if you know anyone…”

I suppose that’s why I was so surprised in a conversation with Paltrow a few weeks back. We were having our weekly Bachelor debrief and then she told me about this poignant wedding she had attended over the holiday. “I just kept thinking about you” she said, and I assumed she meant there was someone there with unruly hair, or who showed up in flip-flops or some other nonsense like that. But she continued, “ I thought of you because I just know that is what your wedding will be like.”

And, I cried.

Immediately.

Shocking even myself.

Poor, delusional Gwyneth, I thought. Can’t she see that I am nearly thirty, dripping with neurosis and plagued by 3 of the world’s most speedily recurrent chin hairs? There is no santa, or toothfairy or husband for me. But the fact that she thinks there could be is overwhelmingly heartwarming. It is the kind of true love which sees the best of me and for me. And I have a lot of that these days.

And that is why I still love Valentine’s Day.

Earlier this week when I realized the Day of the Enamored was right round the corner I did a little (mental) jump of glee, because what it has really come to mean for me is a giggly girlfriend’s holiday where you believe the best for one another and treat each other better than any of your stupid boyfriends ever did. Instead of skulking in to that cleverly released rom-com like some single sinner on a field-trip to catch a glimpse of couplesville, you bound in wearing your best girl-power t-shirts and mocking the finesse-less inevitability of whatever kooky, happy-ending version of Romeo and Juliet is being pushed on this particular evening.

And,

You imagine. For yourself and for all your single ladies, and all your married and trying to conceive ladies, and for all your pre-maturely widowed ladies. You imagine the best and most cliché and satisfying love affairs for the whole lot of you. And I’m not trying to bash reality, ‘cause I have had some real genuine moments of transcendental love in my life, and on most days, I wouldn’t trade them. But, the problem with real people and relationships is that you tend to lose control of the script you’ve written and that can be just as annoying as being single.

So, this Monday (and each day really) I encourage you to be thankful for what is still fictional and for what is real. Be lavish in your affections for everyone in whom you are delighted, regardless of gender or romantic-status. Tell someone expressly, explicitly what they mean to you and what you believe for them. And for God’s sake eat some chocolate covered strawberries. This holiday deserves to be celebrated if but for no other reason than the weeklong ubiquity of those juicy little wedding cake toppers.

At least I know there will be loads of them atop the cake at my wedding one day, right Paltrow?

Happy V- Day everyone, feel free to begin your unabashed affection giving right here in the comments section.

Kerri K.