Valentine's Day is Just a Day
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Every time February 14th comes along, passions, euphoria, media, and street harassment are unleashed. Like any date marked in red in the calendar, sales announcements begin much earlier, and dinner proposals that claim to be romantic and are exotic due to their cost.
I'm not a social anarchist, nor a hermit, I like going out, I love gifts, but, I don't know, these days have always seemed imposed to me, as if the rest of the year didn't matter celebrating life, love, and everything nice and good that we have. So, the outcome in me it’s quite the opposite, I resist, and think of alternatives, less strident solutions, more down-to-earth, less lunatic proposals.
What I feel with these days is an oversaturation of the subject, so rosy, cheesy, Kitsch. All that false tenderness is nothing more than the disguise of a hard and cheap consumerism that pretends to be casual, naive. Society encourages you to buy, almost forces you, and looks badly at the opposite position. So, we, mere mortals, fall, and suddenly we find ourselves buying and giving away without taking into account the other, their likes, their interests. This is how I once saw myself receiving a green stuffed bunny, me, who don’t like the color, and do love stuffed animals, but can't keep them due to my chronic allergy. But the bunny fell into Valentine's roulette.
The matter lies in the proposals. You mind is flooded with mass-produced gifts, postcards full of hearts, glitter and generic phrases of absolute love that are often self-contradictory, with a cheesy language. Be careful, I also like poetry, I make my own cards for my Valentine, and I look for the lyrics that fit my story, or I invent love lines that speak of what moves me. I’m also very fond of Benedetti, Sabines, Pizarnik, Belli, even Silvio Rodríguez and Carilda Oliver. But not just because they are professional writers, I still think it's great what my neighbor or the street vendor says, if it's consistent, I accept it.
So nice that it seems to me to think this day, or any other, with premeditation, study the other person, his tastes or needs, and if the idea is to design a gift, do it not just to get by, make it unforgettable. It doesn't have to be terribly expensive, but if you have the resources, then go ahead. But if funds are limited, no stress, a well-thought-out detail would suffice: a dinner, a movie of your choice curled up on the sofa, a plant that you can see growing in the garden, your own drawing that you can frame later, a walk along the coast to talk about life between kisses and hugs. Whatever the plan, with love, and beyond February 14th, because love is built day by day.
Of course, we are not all the same. Beyond the romantic myth, we cannot like the same things, that’s why this article bears my signature, it’s subjective, my opinion, with which it may or may not be supported, It’s OK, everyone can speak his mind below if they wish, and we can debate. I just wonder, where is the culture of detail?
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