the day after

It’s the day after Valentine’s.

Yesterday was an entire day dedicated to the concept of love. But love doesn’t begin and end with Valentine’s Day.

Love doesn’t begin with a fancy dress and end with a box of chocolates. Affection isn’t flowers delivered to your work and teddy bears on your bed.

It’s not rose petals and candlelit dinners and long poems with delicate words of infatuation.

What happens when those are gone?

What happens when the flowers die and the chocolate is consumed and the dinner is over? What happens when Valentine’s Day is over?

Last night during my own Valentine’s evening of a candlelit dinner of takeout Thai food and ginger beer and also live streaming (and sleeping through) the Lakers game (I’m gushing because he’s the sweetest), my kind date started feeling for my pulse. I may not ever know why he grabbed my wrist and started feeling for my pulse, but that simple action was a huge reminder for me.

When the flowers die, when the chocolate is consumed, when the evening is over; your heart is still there.

Your heart is still there. Constantly wanting the attention and love and care of another. We weren’t created to do this alone, and we don’t have to. Not on Valentine’s Day. Not when Valentine’s Day is over.

It’s the day after Valentine’s.

I love this day.

I love the day after Valentine’s Day because we still get to love people.

The day of love is over. We will have another one next year. With the same people, with different people, with new friends and old.

The day of love is over, but our hearts are still there. Still beating ferociously, still caring compassionately, still longing profoundly. Our hearts are still climbing mountains in an attempt to feel the love we think we deserve.

The day of love is over, but love is not. May you care for and be cared for by the world and the Creator of all that is in it; you completely deserve it.

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