v-day.

photo by Emilio Sanchez

It wasn't until the end of the work day that it started to hit me. Here I am, rushing to get home, but why? I'm only rushing to an empty home. I asked a few coworkers what they were going to do today, to which they all laughed. Nothing, they said. They (and their spouses) treat it like any other day. I suddenly felt young, placing stock in a holiday like this. But Hallmark consumerism aside, I like finding a reason to celebrate. Some friends texted me with well-wishes. So that's something to be grateful for, right? At least I have friends who thought of me today.

I got home to find dinner on the stove in the kitchen, a place setting on the living room table, a rose, some chocolate, and a valentine's day card. All for me, left at home by my Mom. I put down the Thai food I had already bought for myself and started sobbing - face red, eyes puffy, Adele's 'Someone Like You' -type crying. Honestly, I've been so exhausted. I work all the time, absorbing all of our clients' problems, and then come home to take care of a mother who is so sick she can barely breathe. And here she is doing something so special for me like that, so thoughtful. It amazes me, and I think she knew today would be a little rough. Call it desperation, but it means the world to feel appreciated, to feel acknowledged, to feel loved. I give so much of myself and try to be for others what no one has ever really been for me. But I know I am loved.  I am loved.