Bitter:
In spring and summer,
morning, midday, and midnight,
autumn and winter,Kiss me, touch me, think
of me, defend me, console
me, ask me, listen.I’ll know you love me
without Hallmark and candy
and flowers today.
Bitterer:
Hallmark and candy
and flowers say “I love you”
so you don’t have to.Ignore me the next
three hundred sixty-four days,
obligations met.I’ll look forward
to hearing you “love” me again
this same time next year.
Bitterest:
Your love means nothing
because you “love” everyone
you date more than once.
Modern marriage vows:
‘Til death do us part…
or ’til something better comes
along, then buh-bye.
But how do you really feel?
No ring nor paper
will prove you’ll love me always.
Just love me always.
Just for fun:
Take what you can get,
give me nothing back until
I’m an empty shell,Then leave me because
I have nothing to offer
a great catch like you.
I’m going to read these to my Dh and he will CHEER That he, alone, is not duped into buying stupid cards and flowers.
Thankfully for him, I hate cards, and even more flowers.
Nice. My hubby looked at me this morning and said, “I didn’t get you anything. Is that okay?” To which I replied, “You know I think V-Day is silly. It’s more than fine. I didn’t get you anything either.”
It’s not that we aren’t romantic. He and his friends are putting on an amazing dinner for their wives tomorrow night. It’s that I don’t need Hallmark to tell me when to celebrate our love and I automatically protest the whole idea.
I was at work this morning, being talked at by some obnoxious coworker who obviously has too much time on her hands, and she said, “Aw, I didn’t realize you’re all alone. Here, have a cookie.” And she pawed through this enormous raft of cookies she was carrying and presented me with one emblazoned with “I love you.”
I think she’s a lazy, loud-mouthed bitch. She probably has some sort of similar sentiment toward me. But she gives me an “I love you.”
So what the hell does that mean when she goes home to her husband, her kids, her grandma and says, “I love you”—”I feel the same about you as I do about that bitch at the office”?
Casually flinging the word “love” around irritates me to no end. I’d even go so far as to say I find it offensive. It ought to be reserved for special people, so it MEANS something when you say it to them.
And then there’s this stupid “holiday” that splatters it everywhere.
:gr:
The merchandise should be more honest.
“If I say I love you, can I have a blow job?”
or
“I don’t really love you, I’m just afraid to be alone.”
It’s not that I’M not romantic. One of my friends opined a while ago that the reason I’m so hostile about this is because love is a sacred ideal to me, and these people with their insincerity and empty promises and “I ‘love’ you… oops, now I don’t” are desecrating my altar.
At the time, I thought he was graciously embroidering the fact that I’m just a sour, bitter old maid, but I’ve been inspecting this for a week or two, and I think he’s right. It’s not personal. The one time the end of a relationship turned my life upside down, it was from being left with the financial and responsibility burden of single motherhood. I didn’t love him. I didn’t envision a lengthy future with him. The signs were there all along, but with “I’m leaving you for a 19-year-old stripper,” there was no denying he was an asshole, so good riddance, better off without the worthless, mooching, abusive douchebag.
It’s the principle of the thing. Horny is NOT “love.” Terrified to be alone is NOT “love.” Because it’s Valentine’s Day is NOT “love.” Too many people think it is, which cheapens it.
And that pisses me off.
I know, you had no idea, right?
:giggle:
I think the Greeks had it right when they invented three words for love, each with a different emphasis. That way, you could say I love ice cream and I love my husband and the level of passion indicated with each statement would be vastly different.
As for the co-worker, I DO NOT take kindly to people who act like jerks all year long and then clean up their act with sacharine sweetness on V-Day to say I love you. It’s a lie.
So, that being said. Kerry, I adore you. I think you’re fantastic and I care deeply about what happens to you. =) And that is the truth.