It’s okay not to celebrate Valentine’s Day

Okay, this is kind of a spontaneous post, which I’ve not done before (spontaneity can lead to regret!) but hey ho. I’m currently sat in bed feeling lonely because my boyfriend has gone off to work for the day. Sure, I’d love him to be here with me snuggling, but he’s doing overtime because he’s in the process of creating us the perfect home, and to do that, we need money. So what’s more romantic than that?! The fact he’s gone to work on Valentine’s Day so that he can buy us the perfect sofa, or treat us to a new TV, or simply afford a carpet, is perfect.

This is our sixth Valentine’s Day together, and the sixth time we’ve not celebrated it. Sometimes people say to me, “Really? Like, he doesn’t even get you a gift or anything?”, and my answer is no. No, he doesn’t. Our first year together, this disappointed me a tad, I won’t lie. He was (and still is!) my first and only ever boyfriend, and gosh darn it, he’s a Valentine’s Scrooge. But now? I don’t care.

My boyfriend and I are seeing each other about once a week at the moment because he’s either working away, or working on our house (and bless his sweet soul, he’s never asked me to do anything, not even sweep up the dust). I’ve had a mentally draining week this week, and I took it out on him yesterday as soon as I spoke to him on the phone when he finished his 13 hour shift. God, I’m a bitch. But he still came straight over to stay at mine for the night, and we got into bed, gobbled a takeaway, munched on some chocolate cake, and then he watched football whilst I read a book. So bloody normal, and yet so bloody perfect.

I’d totally forgotten that Valentine’s Day was just one sleep away, and this morning when I woke up, I still didn’t think about it. The alarm went off, we woke up, both looking like shit, had a kiss and a cuddle, and then I watched him get dressed and head off to work, yet again.

And I couldn’t be happier.

This morning was no different to any other morning we wake up together, except it had the label Valentine’s Day. But what’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, right?

My point is, I’ve realised this year more than any, that I am totally fine with the fact my boyfriend doesn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day. In fact, it amazes me that he still manages to love me every day of the year when I can be – and usually am – an absolute nightmare. He’s been with me through all of my A-Level stress, university breakdowns, weight loss and weight gain, multiple surgeries, god knows how many hair colours, approximately 67 monthly hormone-fuelled temper tantrums, and yet he’s the one person to never judge or try to change me. And today, I fancied sharing that with the world, because we’re not normally a couple that shares our love online. But a love as great as ours should be shared just this once I think.

Happy just-another-day Day, Damian!

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