Powered by: BKGjewelry
And so it begins.
Well, depending on what stores you frequent, it actually began sometime just before Christmas. It’s almost as if the red began to fade into pink and the poinsettias drew themselves up into pretty little roses as part of some strange biological process.
“It” is Valentine’s Day, the one day of the year that somehow magically morphs from either the greatest to the worst day of the year depending on which side of the love fence you sit on. (“The love fence” sounds painful because it is, if you’re on the wrong side.)
This is my first Valentine’s Day in three years without a special someone, and those two years in between were my first years ever with a special someone, so you’d think I was fully prepared to just hunker down and let the day pass, like death in The Ten Commandments. You’d be wrong. I’m not prepared. I don’t think anyone is ever prepared to spend their first post-relationship Valentine’s Day alone. Added insult to injury is that the holiday comes just a few days after the four-month mark of the breakup.
I know, I know…I need to stop tracking the time like it makes any sort of difference to the outcome. I’m working on it.
Being surrounded by all the hoopla of the holiday, and trying to get back into dating, has made me really think about the state of my heart. Is it half-full or half-empty? I’m not really sure, and, truthfully, it depends on the day or sometimes the hour.
A part of me is still very broken. This relationship was the one that I thought was going to go the distance. I knew I loved him like I knew the sky was blue. It was natural, a realization that came quickly and with a deep sense of having come home. A girl who has always dreamed of the perfect wedding and party to celebrate would have walked down the hallway of the courthouse, without even a ring to show for it, if he had asked. Because he was what was important to me. He was (is) the other half of my heart, and now that he’s taken that half and retreated to his corner of the world without me, my heart feels half-empty.
Yet, I’m not quite ready to admit defeat. Perhaps it’s because I am an optimist at heart, or perhaps it’s because settling for the idea that love isn’t out there is just too damn depressing. Either way, I’m forcing myself to participate in the holiday at least a little. I’ve hung a heart on my door and my heart-shaped pizza is already on order from the take and bake place for Saturday night. It’s not much, but right now the little things are all I can muster.
Jane Seymour, in her jewelry commercials, somewhat cheesily talks about how if you leave your heart open, love will always find its way in. I’m hoping that’s true.
