seanan_mcguire | A Valentine from a Coyote Girl.

Every year, I see heartfelt denials of Valentine's Day, calling it the worst day in the world to be single, a "Hallmark holiday," and a crass excuse for commercialized pink. And I admit, I've had some bad Valentine's Days. Most of them happened in high school, when people were no longer required to make sure they brought a sufficient number of little paper hearts for the entire class. It hurt like hell to see the popular kids walking around with sacks bulging with tokens of their admirers' affections, while I was lucky if I got a single card. It sucked. I don't even mean "it sucked to be single," because I wasn't always; I just had a tendency to date outside my high school, which meant that I was, for all intents and purposes, the person saying "I wish you could meet my girlfriend, but you can't, because she lives in Canada."

Every year, I see heartfelt praise of Valentine's Day, calling it the one day when it's still okay to be a blatant romantic, the day where you can wear your heart on your sleeve and no one will call you an idiot. I've had a few Valentine's Days like that, too. Seeing The Rocky Horror Picture Show with Miriam during a special Valentine showing—and "seeing" is a very generous word for what we did, because really, we spent the entire damn movie sitting in the back of the theater making out and giggling. And that was what we wanted. Stretching out on a bench at the pizza parlor with my head in Tom's lap, smelling hot tomato sauce and stale corn chips and warm denim, which was, for years, the most romantic perfume I could possibly imagine. He told me he loved me on Valentine's Day. We didn't exchange gifts or even cards, but who needed them? Not me, not that night.

Every year, I watch the various establishments that sell "romance" attempt to convince people that Valentine's Day will be a failure if they don't buy that expensive jewelry or those expensive chocolates or that lobster dinner. And every year, I watch people make each other happy with so much less, and so much more. I don't want diamonds. I really don't care whether dinner is nine or ninety dollars a plate. What I care about is spending a day that's about love with people that I love, whether it be filos, agape, or eros, doing things that I love, and being glad to be alive.

Ryan sent me roses. Rob not only called to wish me a happy Valentine's Day, he took it with good grace when I wailed that I was trying to work and essentially hung up on him. Amy hasn't called, but then, Amy's currently busy being awesome (she's at a convention, she has her fiddle, we all know how this works). I have cards and flowers and cats and I'm getting work done, and it's been a wonderful day.

Here is your Valentine from this California coyote girl, and with it, my deepest wish that you and yours be joyful today. Whether you're alone, together, or covered in scorpions, be joyful, and be loved. They gave us a day for love. I think we should take advantage of that.

Current Mood: loved
Current Music: Peter Gabriel, "Come Talk to Me."