What kills me is the expectation that I have to produce romantic sentiment on this day, at this time, in this way, and with a card that was hand picked poetically expressing what I couldn’t, just like in the commercial so we can have a fucking hallmark moment.
The day means nothing to me; Feb. 14. Not my anniversary, not the day she was born, not even the day of the saint she was named after, nothing. Just an arbitrary day with no personal attachment to me at all. Somehow, because there’s a diamond sparkly commercial on TV I’m supposed to toe the line and use this day to proclaim my love in dramatic/expensive fashion.
And It’s not about what she wants, its about what she sees other people getting, and therefore she wants too.
It’s the expectation that makes it so hard to deal with.