Well, today is THE day for all the lovers in the Christian (and not so Christian) world to celebrate their love for each other. I said Christian because in the Muslim countries there are Valentine’s police making certain that anything related to this Catholic saint are not sold or displayed in public. I guess they could be called un-romantic, huh?
Here’s solace for all those who will not receive a valentine, a box of chocolate, a diamond doo-dad from Kays, a manure heart, a single rose, a dozen roses, a proposal of marriage, a romantic dinner (although I suppose those who indulged in that, did it last night on Valentine’s Eve), or even a kiss. Don’t worry, by tomorrow you can start forgetting that there is no one special in your life. You only have your birthday, Thanksgiving, and Christmas to get past in 2010. Then you can be reminded again VD 2011 when the cycle begins again.
If you had someone in your life and that someone is now gone, if you live in Brooklyn, you can call Death Bear. He will come and take from you all those mementos you, forwhatever reasaon, couldn’t throw away when the romance was gone. Nothing says the end better than a black vinyl-clad seven-foot Darth Vader like bear standing at your door to take your ex-beloved’s belongings back to his bear cave.
At my age, my conscious decision to find a friend and companion first still stands, even though the path to that person may take the rest of my life to find. According to my new friend, Pauline, I’m supposed to practice the law of attraction and affirm that that person is waiting for me and it will be a wonderful existence once we find each other.
It’s not that I don’t wish to ever be intimate with anyone again. If you are reading this and you are 20, believe me, for some of us, that desire never leaves us. You may now shudder at the thought. I know several post-menopausal women who say they are glad those days are over, but even if they are, there is still the cuddling, touches as you pass by and kisses that might still be missed. Maybe it’s a case of just wanting what I don’t have that makes me reminisce about the Lovers of Years Gone By.
Today will be filled with joys for some, disappointments for others. There will be those who were attracted to mates who demand expensive gifts from their mates to affirm they are loved. There are those whose mates are not very romantic who would much rather their mates just pick up their dirty underpants and put them in the hamper as a way of showing their love. There are those who will cry tears of joy at the thought of their mates taking the time to make them something homemade but get the old tired Hallmark card instead.
I had, for a change, two males in my life in 2009. Both of them were looking for “sparks”. One of the guys found serious sparks with someone else and it turned into a one nighter. Now he moans he can’t find a girlfriend. I know exactly what they were looking for. I like sparks. I loved sparks in my life when I was in my 20s. But I played with sparks so much when I was younger I’m surprised I’m not a lump of charcoal by now.
I read a book that was published over ten years ago yesterday called The Pilot’s Wife. It was a good book. It’s about a pilot who ended up having two wives and two families on either side of the Atlantic Ocean. The American wife realized the “sparks” were leaving her marriage about the same time she found out four years later, he had found new sparks across the sea. She had sparks with him in the beginning. So many sparks were there that there were three souls present the day they married.
One cannont trust only sparks. They are only there to get things started. After that, they stop sparking and end up, hopefully, as glowing embers that never die. Too often they do. In the article on Death Bear, the writer says, More than 2,400 years ago, Socrates said, “The hottest love has the coldest end.”
So if you have sparks today, more power to you. If your embers are still glowing, maybe a valentine will help stoke the fire a little. If your fire is out and the hearth is cold, call Death Bear. Happy Valentine’s Day. Namaste. Attic Annie