Valentine’s Day is a holiday of high emotions, mostly stress. The occasion has the unique ability to make both those who do participate in it and those who don’t feel vaguely unfulfilled. For the unattached, it has been dubbed Singles’ Awareness Day— an annual 24 hours of performative, public romance in which they cannot comfortably take part. For those in couples, it’s a minefield of somewhat mercurial needs, ludicrous expectations, and the requirement to literally and figuratively pay for both.
On the other hand, it’s just a day about love, and love is cool, and we should express it to romantic, friendly, and filial loves alike and get over ourselves.
That’s what I’m here to help with, using the gift of perspective. It’s 2018, things are crazy, the news cycle will not slow down for anything, and the pitched nature of both domestic and foreign affairs can make us feel as if things are falling apart just a little. Then there was that time some slacker in Hawaii literally accidentally told us the world was ending, so that did not help. With that, my Apocalypse Valentines.
When the actual apocalypse comes, we won’t have time to wonder whether the reservations he made at a mid-level modern American hipster joint were a communication sufficiently tailored to represent our special shared love.
We’ll be too busy hunting and gathering and ducking actual zombies to care. Any meal will do. We’ll greet a dandelion emerging from a crack in a bombed-out shell of a McDonald’s as if it were 10 dozen roses.
These Valentines are for when you’ve found the perfect person with whom to wander the wasteland of our once-great land.
Or any person because, honestly, it’s the apocalypse, how picky are you going to be? This is kill or be killed, survival of the highest order. What? He doesn’t have an advanced degree or a good relationship with his parents? Okay, gurl.
I’m sure it’s fine.