I have become so good at it that I’m starting to believe my own fib. The truth, and absolute truth, my heart crossed, is that I have grown to hate Valentine’s Day more than any other day in the year, more than I hate my neighbour who is a really horrible person. I used to be indifferent to it, in fact, find it amusing, until I started dating my girl. Now, every time Valentine’s Day comes around, the concept of being a single chap becomes alluring. My girl is obsessed; she lives for Valentine’s Day, swears by it, and believes it’s no coincidence that she was born on this day.
She is a perfectly balanced woman, but as Valentine’s Day approaches, she seems to undergo a metamorphosis. It is as if her season of madness is coming on. At first, I thought I was the cause of this new radiance I was seeing in her. But then, she got weird; the week leading to Valentine’s Day, she worked herself into a maddening frenzy, reaching a fever pitch on Valentine’s Day eve that was rocked with rollercoaster mood swings. I was helpless because I didn’t know what was going on, and I hate being helpless when it comes to my woman.
I soon found out it was all about Valentine’s Day cum birthday, in that order. Too much was going on; I decided to keep my mouth shut. A good thing it turned out to be that I kept my opinions to myself because, apparently, the guy before me had not fared so well when he had faked a work trip on her Valentine’s Day, and she found out.
Over the past two years, I have had to perfect the art of Valentine’s Day drama. For this one day in the year, I watch my woman become something else. As I play her Romeo, chauffering, wineing and dinning her, I find myself actually hating her. I do not like who she morphs into, and it is only the memory of what she is the rest of the year that keeps me from walking away from her forever. I have no problem with taking her out, celebrating her birthday, but we cannot even discuss this objectively. Any form of objective thinking, questioning of her rationality (and quietly, her mental state) will rapidly deteriorate into a deep emotional abyss, one I have to spend several weeks digging us out of.
I have no doubt she would leave me immediately, and then hate me forever if she got to know about the extent of this deception. I understand that I have to do things I do not particularly like in a relationship, this is what ‘compromise’ means. But what I resent is the fact that I know she would leave me in a heartbeat if she got to know that I did not share her lunatic obsession. I love this girl, I really do. But on this one day, I would gladly trade her in for a cold beer at my neighbourhood kafunda. But only on that one day, because other than this temporary insanity, she is a truly amazing woman.