St Valentine’s Day approaches. Cards are in the shops. Bunches of cheap flowers at the garage awaiting some random sod that will purchase them, on the fly because…yet again, THEY have forgotten Valentine’s Day.
Valentine’s Day is a difficult day for me. This is because next to your birthday and of course Christmas, it is the NUMBER ONE day for showing someone that you love them.
Many deride this event. ‘It’s fake!’ they trill. ‘Just an excuse to get money out of us!’. My personal favourite is that ‘It was created by Hallmark. It’s Hallmark day!’
The commercial aspect of this day cannot be denied. It is an excuse to make money but it wasn’t always so.
Valentine’s Day is hard for me because I wanted my husband to demonstrate, on this one day,: that he did love me. That his negligent behaviours over the year was him just being stupid, forgetful, lazy. (Insert your own adjective). If on this one day of the year, he could just demonstrate, for once, that he loved me. That would make up for everything that I was going through. That I hadn’t backed the wrong horse. That I could explain the whole thing away. Peace. Of. Mind.
As the day approached, I would sometimes gently nudge him, ‘Please just buy me a card’, I would say. Now, dear readers, what do you think he did? That’s right? Fuck all.
Year after year. How much does a card cost? Or even taking the time to make a meal? Whisper that he loved me? Let alone a bunch of flowers.
As you will know, I write on NPD abuse. The ‘Valentine’s Day Manipulation’ is a very powerful trick when used on the love devotee. The Empath. Very.
My ex has pulled the VDM with not just me but TWO other partners. As Patrinarch would say, ‘If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.’ In the VDM I was the ‘middle child’. He pulled it before. The ‘forgetting’. Indeed, his first partner actually broke up with him for that reason alone. (Well actually, there must have been more reasons but that was the proverbial straw…)
So it was not really that surprising that when I, his new partner and him were in my kitchen that she suddenly popped out that he had been ‘forgetting’ Valentines Day with her as well. Ho hum. Three women. I daresay that when it ends with her (and it will) he will pull the same trick again. And again and again. Like me, she explained it away as him being, here we go, ‘forgetful’.
So as the day approaches, I am left wondering about the day itself. Of how much it means? Is it just a commercial venture, designed to milk the pockets of the unwary, the foolish and the semi-epsilonic morons?
No. It is the one day of the year that the Empath expects (and by very definition deserves) to be recognised. For all their endeavours over the year. For all their devotion, care and effort. Is that really too much to ask?
I don’t think it is. Will I receive a card this year? Doubtful. Very. And it’s not even that I haven’t had men spewing their ‘eternal devotion’ over me. Indeed, over a two year stretch I had three men eschewing their ‘love’. I presume it was for me but then, who knows? They are not called narcissists without good reason. Mirror mirror. (Actually, I was really pissed that I didn’t get a fourth as that would have taken my ‘batting average’ up to one per six months.)
In the words of the last, ‘I will love you forever. When I die, that memory of you coming hard, twice, on my cock will be there. In the forefront of my memory’. There’s romance for you!
Too bad that my memory of you is that you an emotionally stunted retard. Who stalked and bothered me and was a contributing factor in my suicide attempt.
So have I ever revived a card? Yes I did. From my big ex. It’s noticeable that this is the only one I have and I kept. It says very simply, ‘I will love you forever’.
No, you will love my fuel forever. I did love that man. Too bad he is a sexually sadistic psychopath.
So if you are reading this, please do tell someone that you love them this Friday. It will mean the world to them.
As for the narcs? Empaths never stick around forever. Once they are out; they are out. I lost everything because of love. So don’t be like me; be smart. And tell the fuckers to stick their cheap card up their arse.