Friday, February 10, 2012

Valentines Day

Valentine's day. We don't get it off work. So as far as I'm concerned, it's not a holiday.

As a single women, this holiday is the day that the men I date disappear for fear of becoming too committed, where women flaunt their boyfriends and the gifts they get from them as if this is some hard-earned reward for having sex with them, and where I feel like shit because I don't get to have sex or get flowers. But don't feel sorry for me.

There was one magical Valentine's day in my life. It was a cold winter night in Brooklyn. Leah, one of my best friends in the whole world, was alone. We were both in this weird state of shock because a very special family member of her boyfriend Tim was killed when flight 3406 crashed in Buffalo. Tim found out the news on his birthday.

Life, death, loss? I've had to deal with this kind of heavy stuff for my whole life. It's a huge contributor to my fear of commitment. And it's this type of concrete reality lodged into my DNA that makes heart balloons and flowers seem insignificant and plastic to me.

This Valentine's day felt like it was forcing Leah and I to be alone. With Tim gone to Buffalo for the funeral and I insistent on forgetting the holiday existed, it seemed the perfect night for Leah and I to forget about love and all things that have to do with hearts and candy, remain in our respectful hermit caves and watch Real Housewives of New York.

But we didn't.

Leah's usually vibrant dark eyes were downcast that night. When I arrived at The Loft, usually alive with music, voices and barking dogs, everything was eerily quiet. Braving the cold Brooklyn air, we headed out into the winter night all dressed up with somewhere to go. My tights were gold and shimmery, my lipstick a bright red. Somewhere in the corners of my jaded mind, I had hoped I might meet someone that night. Another lonely soul that hated Valentine's day the way I did.

We were expecting to go to a Soul Food restaurant bar, that had dancing and music. We wanted to dance, be merry and attempt to lift the heaviness from our hearts and brains. And we were starving. We opened the door to the bar ready to party. What we found was a very long bar leading to an empty dance floor. There were five people in the entire place.

This night could have turned out to be one of those dud nights where nothing happens. But somehow within the contrast of Valentine' day and the shock of tragedy, there was this kernel of love between us that cut through reality and turned this night into a memory I will take to my grave. Leah was my Valentine that night. A soul mate for life. Now that's something to celebrate.

Arielle Ford, author of "The Soul Mate Secret" describes a soul mate as:
1. Someone that you love unconditionally
2. Someone that when you look into their eyes you have the experience of being "home".
3. Someone you can be your true self with.

This is the definition of a soul mate that I align my heart with. And I believe that every person has many soul mates in life. The myth of one soul mate per person is ridiculous. Tim and Leah are soul mates, Leah and I are soul mates, Tim and I are soul mates, and on that night, Tim was mourning one of his soul mates gone too soon. That's the reality of life. Sometimes we loose soul mates, sometimes we only see them once a year. I have many people in my life that match Arielle's definition. I don't need candy and flowers to make it so.

That night in Brooklyn, Leah and I sat at the bar and ate the most delicious meal in the world. We didn't talk about how awful it was to be alone on Valentine's day. We just appreciated the mac and cheese, sweet potato pie, yummy wine, each other's company and the fact that we were alive. A Valentine's day cannot go by without me missing my good friend in New York and craving sweet potato pie. On that night, love was real. It existed through tragedy, through a Brooklyn winter, through our conversation, even in the food we were eating.

Don't get me wrong, I still feel a pang in my heart when I see some really happy woman receiving flowers from her beloved. But don't feel sorry for me. For every part of me that is jealous there's another part of me that believes every day is a holiday for single people. Watching the trials and tribulations of people in relationships, I can understand why couples need a day to force them to be nice to each other. But If we're going to call it a holiday we should at least get it off work.

1 comment:

  1. you are genious............I love this...specially the defination of a soulmate....how profound!!!!!
    love you honey....you ROCK!!!!

    ReplyDelete