She Planned The Perfect Valentine Until Love Failed

At one point in my life, I believed I was destined to never celebrate Valentine’s Day. I could have a boyfriend throughout the year, only to lose him by February 13th. For me, Valentine’s Day was just another mundane day.

I lived with friends who would go out on Valentine’s Day and return the next morning to rave about their romantic experiences. While all my friends received beautiful boxes filled with red gifts, the only message I got was from my dad, saying, “I fell in love with you the very first day I saw your ultrasound scan image on a sonographer’s screen.”

My little niece, just four years and three months old, came home one day with a handmade card featuring her name. When my mom asked her who gave it to her, she replied, “A boy in my class.” My niece could receive a Valentine’s card, but I couldn’t.

In my final year at university, I finally had a boyfriend. We started dating in December, and Valentine’s Day was just two months away. I was convinced my days of being alone on Valentine’s were over. I had it all planned out: he would get me a red gift, take me out on the evening of February 14th, and I would return to campus on the 15th, ready to tell my roommates about my amazing Valentine’s experience and how loved I felt.

If a girl can’t dream, what else is there to fill her days?

February arrived, and we were still deeply in love. By the 10th, we were blissfully happy, so I began preparing for Valentine’s Day. I bought him a card with an artificial rose in the center, wrote him a heartfelt letter expressing my unwavering love, and got him a red bow tie since he loved them. I also bought a bottle of champagne and a new set of boxers, as his were getting old.

On February 13th, I searched for a nice place for us to celebrate, just in case he asked where I wanted to go. Everything was meticulously planned, and my roommates even offered suggestions.

Finally, February 14, 2014, arrived. It was a Friday. He hadn’t mentioned Valentine’s Day, but I was sure he had something in store for me. In the evening, I called to let him know I was on my way. He replied, “I can’t wait to have you here.”

I crossed the street and climbed over fifty stairs to reach his hall. When I knocked, he opened the door with a broad smile. I handed him my gift and said, “Happy Valentine’s Day!” He looked at me as if I had missed something important. He didn’t say a word. I asked, “Is something wrong?” He replied, “You know I’m a Jehovah’s Witness, right?” I said, “Yes, I know.” He continued, “We don’t celebrate these things.”

I stood there, stunned. I asked, “So your church doesn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day? We can’t celebrate it together because of your church?” He nodded and handed my gift back to me. I was at a loss for words or actions, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. All my joy evaporated in an instant.

Another year without a Valentine, and I had to return a gift I had put so much thought and effort into. “What will I tell my roommates when I get back to my room?” I wondered.

I sat for a moment, collected myself, and walked away from his room. As I left, he said, “But we can celebrate love in our own way, just not in the name of Valentine.” I asked him, “What does your church say about sex before marriage? Is it allowed?”

He could engage in premarital sex, but celebrating Valentine’s Day was the greatest sin. As I walked out of his room, I knew it would be the last time.

And indeed, it was.

—Gloria  
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