My Cat Almost Wrote This Post About Love

Well…that’s a lie. I tried to take a cute picture of her like this one:

cf389_valentines-day-animals1

and that ended as predicted, with scratches on my guilty hands and a cat who refused to come out from under my bed for about 20 minutes. So you’ll have to settle for this hilarious and somehow tragic picture that I found on google (linked to source) and is not, in fact, original content.

If Delilah (the cat) were writing this post, it would be about things she loves: pushing any object off any flat surface and watching it fall to its doom, especially in the middle of the night; drinking water out of human glasses; sleeping on laptops; THE RED DOT;  and of course food out of a can.

Due to the aforementioned scratching, however, and the primary readership of this blog not being comprised of cats, I will be writing about a different kind of love. More specifically, How I Learned to Stop Hating and Love the (Valentine’s) Bomb.

Just because I’m an ultra liberal feminist artistic type doesn’t mean I’m going to hate on Valentine’s Day. I usually do. But I won’t. It’s part of the Positivity Thing I’m working on. I figure since I am too broke to delve into the commercial aspect of this otherwise bullshit holiday, and thus don’t have to worry about that aspect or its implications, why not take the day to actually celebrate what I love?

I love my family. I love my surrogate family of best friends. I love my cat and my dogs who live with my parents. And yes, the coup d’etat: I am super, madly, crazy, out-of-this-world in love with my boyfriend.

Don’t shoot me. Or throw up. Maybe this holiday has not a shred of personal significance to us, but since last year I was working all evening and otherwise loath to even acknowledge it, why shouldn’t I take an extra opportunity to tell him? And things? Right?

Listen, I don’t do feelings very well. Feelings are hard. That’s why I write. I never thought I was going to be loved like this. Not in an emo, depressing way. Just–I thought I was outside it. An academic-like observer of this thing that happened to other people. It was all very interesting. Objective people are also great at advice–and so was I, for a while. And then with the advent of something I just made up called Sudden-Onset Adulthood, I wasn’t objective anymore. I can’t help you with your problem (you probably don’t even need help, actually). I am lost in Love Forest as well. And if you’re going to shoot me at all during this post, feel free to do it because of that truly terrible metaphor.

I used to hate the phrase “falling in love.” Like, what, you just tripped? And then decided to stay on the ground? Or at best it’s some mediocre Alice In Wonderland reference? I always thought it should be something more deliberate. Not something that just happened to you, like an accident–where you are just an innocent bystander who suddenly stumbles and plummets and ultimately likes the sensation.

Well, too bad, Former Me. Because now I kind of do like that phrase. It’s pretty accurate. I don’t mean in the “bystander” sense, but in that heady, breathless, snowballing way. It grows on you. If we’re going with Alice references, maybe the Looking Glass would be better. But for now, I’m okay with falling.

Ultimately, there may not be any candy or flowers or fancy dinner or greeting cards or chocolate drizzled in patterns on a plate (what? That’s totally a thing at restaurants). Those things might be fun but they are kind of dumb and insignificant to me when I think about ways to say “I REALLY LOVE YOU.” Caps intentional. I mean, maybe I’ll get him conversation hearts. He loves those but I think they taste like chalk. That, however, is not the point. It’s this: why not embrace something that you don’t understand and make it your own? Like this “holiday.” I don’t mean just those who are in a relationship. We could do a lot worse than to celebrate love at every opportunity. I don’t care if that’s cheesy. Cheese is good. Put cheese on all the things. Mmm.

Sometimes that boy I love reads this blog. So here is a song that yes, is kind of overdone, but it’s acoustic and live and is definitely how I feel. I love you.

Advertisements

3 Comments

  1. I totally write because feelings are SO hard. They should not be talked about but written about in my opinion. Although since I’ve found my husband, I’ve found feelings a bit easier to share verbally.

  2. Hi Betty! Thanks for reading and commenting 🙂 Writing them is so much easier because you can say your whole piece at once. I am, however, like you, learning to share them better as they surface. To progress!

Comments are closed.