Jet Black Heart. Part 1.

With only a week until dreaded Valentine's Day, I feel it is only appropriate to share my irritation for it. I'm not the only one who believes the day had been made less about "love" and more about the consumerist bullshit that goes with it. It's frightfully sickening.

I think this perspective comes from my parents. I have no doubt they love each other in their own way, but they've never been ones to publicise their affection, not even buying a card for each other to celebrate the day. But that's what they're like. They don't have to buy each other things on one specific day of the year to prove that their 20 years of marriage actually means something. 

So that's how I went about my first Valentine's with my ex last year. We'd only been "official" for just over two weeks, and I didn't see the point in us doing anything "special" because we knew we didn't have to. And we are not the sort of people to be all lovey-dovey. Well, he might be, but I definitely wasn't. The idea of us contributing to this façade was relinquished further, when my ex had decided to go home for the weekend. He hadn't seen his parents since the Christmas holidays, so his decision seemed perfectly reasonable. He even asked my permission it was okay! Shock. Horror. I just laughed in response, telling him that he didn't need my permission! 

 

It was decided, admittedly under the influence of numerous Jaeger bombs and double vodka cokes, that we would "celebrate" Valentine's Day two days later, on Monday 16th, after he had come back home and just before I departed for my short trip to Amsterdam with a few friends from uni, in a club where we had unexpectedly stumbled upon one of his friends from home; who's also studying at the same university, and his girlfriend who was coming to visit. I don't exactly remember how the entire conversation paned out, but I vaguely remember my ex shouting in my ear over the awfully remixed music, that we were going to dinner with his friend and his girlfriend. I'm fine with meeting new people in any instance. But this was something new. I was meeting these people, not as myself, but as "the new girlfriend". I had met my ex's friend once before, when he came on a night out with our friends only a week or so before. Suspiciously, it was around the time my ex started featuring me on his Snapchat story. The 10 second photos of me with my awfully dip-dyed green hair. It was blue to start with, okay? But apparently they weren't the first to ask who I was, and why my ex was spending so much time with me. And I don't mean every other evening for a few hours. I mean, everyday after lectures, we would spend hours procrastinating, eating junk food, and getting drunk with our friends. It was easy because we lived in the same halls of residence, and ours weren't exactly big. But I think that was our mistake. I had fallen for the boy downstairs, but I wasn't the only one. My old flatmate is currently seeing the guy she kissed on the first night of Freshers. Kudos to you guys.

 

It was then that he admitted that a few of his friends, who were retaking Year 13 back home, had heard buzzings about my presence in their best friend's new life at uni. The source- his mum. Who, I might add is a fucking legend, and is one the kindest and battiest women I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. His entire family already knew about me! He had told me this not long after we had returned from the Christmas holidays, admitting that he had fallen asleep and left his phone unlocked. And low and behold, his two older brothers had found the conversations between us. They weren't exactly private, but in all honesty, at this point I hardly knew the guy. Boy, how that has changed. Proof of this being plastered all over his Facebook profile. Much to his horror, and my amusement.

My ex had a lot of intrigue surrounding his new "friend", whereas, my family didn't even know he existed. I wasn't embarrassed, I just didn't want to get ahead of myself, because neither of us knew what was going on, or where it was headed. All I know is that my feelings for him had changed from "friend" to something else in a period of three weeks. His feelings, I am unsure of, both now and then. But there seemed to be indications that he liked me more than I did at that time. I mean, what possessed him? 
Of course our friends from uni knew what was going on, but the outside world seemed too distant for me to bring him into that part of my life. Something I found myself contemplating; whether I regret bringing those two components of my life together.

 

Anyway. I was left alone on Valentine's weekend, and I couldn't have given less of a shit. The thing I found funny, was that my ex's mum had even messaged him when he told he of his plans to go home, that she was concerned that I wasn't okay with it! He knew my views on the day, and he knew that we didn't have to single out one day of the year to celebrate with each other.

That's not to say I didn't succumb a little bit to the nonsense of the day. I know, call me a hypocrite. But so did he, and it wasn't as if it was a grand gesture. He bought me my favourite chocolates- Guylian. If you've never tried them, then go buy some right now. Because I can't describe them enough to validate their deliciousness. And I bought him cider. Yes, I know it seems impersonal, but makes more sense when I tell you that my ex boyfriend hailed from the vast valleys of Somerset. And, oh yes, does he have a strong Bristolian accent. Something I continue to laugh at when he says words in an odd way, like "bath" or "three". Something I probably shouldn't find endearing or attractive anymore. Cider isn't just his poison, it's his version of water, with all it's varieties of flavours- from the strong and sour "proper" West Country apple cider, to the smooth and unusual fruit combinations of Scandinavia.

Even though I didn't care much for the day, it was nice to know that my ex was still thinking of me. And I know this because he got tipsy with his mates at the pub, and told me that he wished he hadn't gone home, and that he would've rather spent the weekend back at uni. He assured me that he would make it up to me when he came back. Is it bad that I still have that message nearly a year later? It was also the overwhelming cringe-worthy text I woke up to, the first thing being an apology for being so gross with me. But secretly-- I enjoyed it. It was something I hadn't experienced before, or thought would ever happen, so I will freely admit that maybe, to an extent I was wrong.  

 

Valentine's Day, yes, can be wonderful to celebrate for some couples. But for me, I'll happily stick to doing something special for my other half on any other day of the year, and not being dictated by modern consumer culture. So whatever category of couple you might see yourself fitting into, don't worry about the day. Don't sweat, it's all cool, bitches. Do something to celebrate if you want. Go out to that fancy restaurant that has a reservations list as long as your arm. Buy those flowers. Write that card, or letter- if you're feeling confident. Just enjoy the day, or don't see it as something to be perceived in awe. Just chill, it's just another day of the year.

 

Now, my personal feelings on the day don't just lie in my experience. I just don't care. Whatever happens, happens. Just love that person like they are the only one for you.

This first part has centred around the daunting concept of Valentine's Day, but another feature that is to take shape is that of #Relationshipgoals.

 

So stay tuned for part 2, where I delve into the crux of the impact of social media and how it affects not only our perceptions of relationships, but also those relationships we encounter ourselves.

 

So whilst blindly loved-up couples go about their preparations for the day, I'll stick to my own style, which include going to a Traffic Light Party at our local student dive, or reading about the St. Valentine's Day Massacre. Different, I know. Either way, the day will occur with exceedingly preposterous amount of consumerism shoving itself into our faces. Write your own kick-ass love story.

 

"We loved with a love that was more than love"- Edgar Allan Poe.