Speaking of Love...

I have never celebrated St Valentine's day. Never ever. Neither did I celebrate when I had a boyfriend nor when I didn't have; neither did I celebrate it when I was in love nor when I wasn't. St Valentine's day means nothing else than an ordinary day for me.

I walked around Broadmead today and Mr. Valentine followed me everywhere I went. Big red hearts and discounts all over, on basically anything: jewellery, clothes, lingerie, complements, perfumes, electronics, stationary...

Shops were basically suggesting I should indulge myself buying chocolates and sweets I never buy, that I should get a sexiest lingerie and undress for my lover, and that I should have dinner in a fancy restaurant to prove my love for somebody.

It makes me sick to realize there are people whose world revolves around a person, whose personality vanished the moment they began the relationship, and decide to make the St Valentine's day a very special day. Why just on St Valentine's day? Why not on any other day?  Why not on every other day?

We are surrounded by people we love, who had always be by our-side and we keep forgetting about them. I personally can't remember the last time I said "I love you" to my mom, dad or the rest of the family; or even to our closest friends who have been there, come hell or high water. Even more important than saying it is prove it, though. And a couple of flowers and chocolates don't achieve that.

Keep in mind: you don't find love, you build it.