This, my dear readers, is a Valentine’s card. Or rather it is a picture of one of three Valentine’s cards currently spooning each other in a cosy corner of my handbag. And at some point today, with a heart full of love, I am going to hand it to someone.
But the recipient is not who you think it is. He – or maybe she – is going to be…a perfect stranger.
The grandad who sits next to me on the bus maybe, or the busker at Green Park station, or perhaps the businessman who smiles at me in the lunch queue. It doesn’t really matter who my Valentine turns out to be, what matters is that I get to do something guaranteed to make me feel great on this, the international day of overpriced red roses, overbooked restaurants and overstuffed teddy bears: I get to release a bit of good old fashioned love into the world, just because I can.
It’s very easy to be cynical about Valentine’s Day, especially when you’re single and, even more especially when, like me, you’re mere heartbeats out of a break-up. And believe me, I’ve thrown some insults at the universe recently for the way my year has started but when all is said and done, I am an optimist and moping around wailing about my wounded heart will do no-one any good while perhaps releasing some of this excess love inside me into the world, will. So I choose to refuse to be cynical about love and instead I am going to spend today celebrating the fact that in a world that all too often feels scarred by pain and suffering, there is a day dedicated wholeheartedly (pun intended) to mushy, complicated, delicious, enlightening love.
I acknowledge that there is a distinct possibility that the person into whose hands I grinningly thrust my little red envelope will be just a little bit freaked out. I mean, here I am, dressed, as per usual, in something outrageously bright, and armed with a cupidic little secret I am sure there is something oddly vibrational in my manner. Still, as long as I don’t cause anyone a panic attack, I reckon it’s all good because once they open the card – which will explain that they have not been stalked, merely chosen during a momentary connection to receive some love – I hope that my silly little card brings a smile to their face and a bounce to their step. I already know it’s going to do so for me – I’ve been giddy with anticipation ever since I thought of it! And who knows, maybe they’ll pass it on!
But what of the other two cards I hear you ask? I think you may already have guessed that when it comes to love I can be quite terrier-like in my persistence. Alas, in the case of my Valentine, persistence appears to be futile. So, in an act of rare restraint, I am going to follow the sage advice of several very dear friends and…not send them to him. This is not to say that I won’t be sending him love, oh no, there will be veritable bucket-loads of the stuff pulsing into his orbit, but this time, that love will come without a note. Of course, if the curiosity that drove him to find Beau Dacious last week (the sneaky little sleuth!) drives him back here today, and if said curiosity is sufficiently intrigued to see the unique personally designed cards he’s missing out on, he has my number, he can call me maybe.