On Valentine’s day one year ago, I was in Melbourne.
I walked along the streets and saw couples. I visited the shops and saw chocolates. Flowers. Soft toys.
It was such a bittersweet view. On one side, it was sweet. On the other side, it made me long for someone who was living in another continent.
The view on the streets was intoxicating. It seems like on this very day, single people, including those who are in long distance relationships, are punished to see this cruel reminder of life: he’s not here. You’re alone, while everyone else has someone. You want to run to him, to hug him, to have dinner with him under the stars.
And yet, you can’t.
If you think of it, it’s not such a big deal. Seriously, you are alone for the rest 364 days of the year, why being alone on this one particular day makes you such a sad, depressed, lonely being?
And yet, on Valentine’s Day one year ago, I wished so hard to spend it with him. I prayed so hard to meet him – to laugh and smile with him. To be with him.
This year, I had my wish.
He was home.
It was Chinese New Year so he decided to take leave and have a little bit of holiday. As fate favoured me, this year’s Valentine’s Day was not far from the festive holiday. We decided to go out and spend the day together – nothing fancy, just, you know, a date.
We had a casual lunch at the place where we had our date during holiday last year, and uncreative as we were, we ordered the exact same food – only this time he chose mine and I chose his. We sat at the place where we sat last time. We were, so it seemed, the most unromantic couple on Valentine’s Day.
We continued our date to the bookshop. Without making a pact, it turned out we both didn’t prepare any gifts. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but we were okay with it. And so we decided to choose one book for ourselves, and exchange them.
So in essence, I bought him an entrepreneurial book for him to learn more about opening a business, and he bought me a guide to become a copywriter.
We walked passed the flower store and I started to tease him, giving a long, wondering stare to the shop. He took the hint and bought me a stalk of red rose.
During the journey back home, I gave him the obligatory Valentine’s chocolate: it was M&Ms! He laughed and teased me, but I could see happiness in his eyes.
My Valentine’s day was not eventful, nor it was romantic. But you know what? It was beautiful.
Company is all that matters, and I am looking forward to spend many more uneventful, unromantic Valentine’s Day with you.
