try a little tenderness

Yesterday was Valentine's Day. I was depressed yesterday solely because it was Valentine's Day. The worst part is that I actually had a Valentine. Two, in fact. I had two Valentine's. I was a Valentine whore. One of my Valentine's was my boyfriend, and he was not a very good Valentine. He did not live up to my Valentinepectations. He sent me a text message for Valentine's Day. And since our relationship is pretty much over the internet anyways, this was disappointing. I expected a phone call. But he was in class all day, and as we all know, that leaves absolutely no time for phone calls.

My mother was my other, tangible Valentine. She did quite well in Valentineology. She made me baked ziti for dinner and even lit candles and we had a glass of wine. Why, I even had strawberries and whipped cream for dessert. Not to mention she gave me a card (but because she is crazy she left out a word and it made little sense) and $20. I love her. She defines Valentine's Day for me, and therefore no one can ever live up to her.

The last Valentine's Day I remember was in 9th grade, when I was in (not love, but the 9th grade version of it) with Monica. She was sick on Valentine's Day, and I remember having a huge, elaborate, romantic puzzle for her. But, she was sick. So, I made my mom (the truest of Valentine's) drive me to her house so I could deliver it. I don't remember exactly, but I think I touched her. (Monica, that is.) I got her a Fuel CD and that's all I remember, but I got her something else I know. My mom and her dad talked small talk. I remember thinking "this is fun. I like being romantic and making people feel special when they are sick." I remember thinking that this whole (not love, but the 9th grade version of it) was really nice. I don't think I've felt that since then.

Which is why Valentine's Day was depressing. If I could just treat it as though it were any other day, maybe I wouldn't be disappointed. However, I am in this society, and I don't have that will power, so naturally I am disappointed when my online boyfriend can't call me. Or care. Or pretend to care. Considering he is a member of this society as well, and he's been clued in on how one is supposed to act on Valentine's Day.

I love my mom. Maybe it is because I am gay, or because I am in touch with my sensitive side, but I know how to treat someone on Valentine's Day. It's a day for people who aren't normally romantic, like myself, to surprise their significant other's and try a little tenderness. Right, Otis Redding? Right. I am thankful that my mom taught me back in 9th grade, without her knowledge, to do just that by going the extra length to make the day a little special for someone. She did so by simply driving the smaller, licenseless, 9th grade version of me to my 9th grade version of love's house and letting me be romantic. She taught me it was okay, and right. And she reinforces it every year when she makes my Valentine's Day more special through heart-patterned underwear, cards with missing words, $20, baked ziti, and a little tenderness.