I am the scrooge of valentines day… not the only one, but one of millions I am certain. I can only remember one valentines that I truly enjoyed and that was spent with a now quite good friend, with anxious heart beats that thumped along to the rhythms of Paul Curreri and Devon Sproule at what was the gravity lounge in Charlottesville (now the Southern). To paint a picture, Christmas lights dimly lit this room (a renovated library room in the basement of a building). There were lawn chairs strewn along walls, sofas from various yard sales and many people in laid back clothes. It suited the atmosphere. The sweet and twinged voices of Paul and Devon leaped through the air as if to attempt to woo the entire audience at once. My attention was more on the performance than my concert going partner.. and it was a ‘platonic’ date, although years later I’ll admit my attraction for this person. *Sigh*
I will say, I do not love this holiday. Heck, I don’t really consider it a holiday. It seems to me to be more of a constant reminder that I am alone.
“You are my sweetest downfall
I loved you first…” (Regina Spektor, ‘samson’)