My Valentine

I have never been a fan of Valentine's Day. I do not look forward to it. I do not celebrate it and most especially, I do not care about it. I neither look for a date nor give a hint that I am interested in a date. I don't even bother to go out and sulk over how some creatures are meant to live a ‘lucky" and "blessed" lives. And of course that annoying flowers and chocolates routine/madness is driving me beyond the brink of my sanity.

When I was a kid, I dreamed of a prince charming that would sweep me off my feet and sing me love lullabies and recite poetic lines about love and love alone like the ones that I read about in fairy tales. But boys would always tease me about how curly my hair was and how huge my forehead is! And when I get mad at their endless bullying and fight back, they would tease me more! I get so jealous at those pretty girls who would always look like they're princesses from kingdoms far, far away. While there I was, staring at them like a pauper asking for alms.

When I was a young lady, I used to daydream about this tall, dark and handsome young man who would wear his heart out of his sleeves for me. He would bring me chocolates and cuddly stuffed toys and my favorite flower, gardenia. He would then fight for my honor and love me for eternity. But I wasn't good looking enough to earn even a single glance from the lads. My hair isn't as straight and as long as Rapunzel's and my shoe size? Not even as lady-like as Cinderella’s. My complexion didn't come close to Snow White's. My voice does not lure sailors like Ariel's and my eyes are not as intriguing and exotic as Jasmine's. I'm just one of Cinderella's stepsisters or Jasmine's chambermaids or Ariel's less famous sister.

Years have passed and yes; a woman I have become. What was once a fragment of my imagination about how my Mr. Right would be is now buried six feet under by that harsh reality that fairy tales do not happen in real life or if it does for some fortunate soul, it does not always have a happy ending. I do not give it much thought nowadays. I do not even pay attention. So what if I'm not as hot as Zoe Saldana? So what if I do not have Angelina Jolie's lips? I do not care if I'm not as statuesque as Gisele Bundchen or as pretty as Anne Hathaway.

But someday, I'll have a reason to celebrate that day of hearts. I'll have a reason to wake up, put my make-up and that little black dress on for a romantic candle-light dinner for two. There would be no sulking and sourgraping and brooding when seeing lovers pass me by. There would be no bitter remarks as to how stupid people become with those flowers and chocolates and bears routine. For someone out there is my valentine and we're just waiting for that perfect Valentine's date.