How does the observance of a day of martyrdom evolve into a day of romance? Well, there are a couple historical-based theories involving secret marriage performances and the misinterpretation of poetry, so that's understandable. (Shush-don't call me a nerd.) But then how does a celebratory day of romance turn into a once-a-year show of affection?
Where Valentine's Day is concerned, I would much rather spend the entire year doing little romantic things for one another than to expect an expensive piece of jewelry or a reservation at an upscale restaurant for one night. It makes me sad to think of all the people who expect these great and expensive things, who depress themselves if they are disappointed. Why do we represent something as immaterial as love with the most material of gifts? I just want to live every day with my significant other so that we don't feel we need a holiday to recognize how we feel about each other.
'Nuff said.
So there, to all you who said I was a love-hater!
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