It is 4 am on Valentine’s Day and I am faced with the ending credits of “P.S. I Love You” and a silver bowl smeared with chocolate with a few kernels of popcorn at the bottom. The Starbucks Mocha Frappuccino carton is empty and sitting in my sink. I am depressed about Valentine’s Day. I never thought it was going to happen. Right after Christmas my favorite holiday is Valentine’s Day. I am addicted to the insane amount of red and pink at every store I walk into. . .even the gas station with its little display of an 8-count box in the shape of heart with chocolate. I love the absolutely ridiculous balloons with frogs declaring their love in big, bright letters. I enjoy the romantic movie marathons on every channel with the women between 18-40 demographic. . .except for today.
On Lifetime, I just saw a preview for “Coming Home” a show about military families. Again, the reality of being with a soldier hit me harder than the 40 degree cold that hit my bare arms earlier when I went to dump the popcorn bag in the trash outside (the smell will always bother me).
I have yet to experience the true reality of what being with this soldier means, but I have experienced what it is like to miss every single holiday in the past five years with the exception of his birthday last year. To be absolutely honest I abhor this feeling of loneliness on holidays. . .but, to add to that honesty, I would never do anything to give this soldier up.
Now it’s time to cry to sleep. . .same ol’ same ol’. It’ll be better in a few hours though.