Valentine's Day: Then and Now

Last year on February 14 I had undiagnosed endometrial cancer, clinical depression, anemia and a tempestuous, moody, self absorbed, ornery, capricious Gemini girlfriend.
We argued on Valentine's Day because she said I went overboard on her gifts.
I should have dumped her then and there, but we lasted another eight miserable months.

I am now cancer-free, non-depressed, red blooded, and was awakened this morning by the sweetest phone call from my calm, loving, affectionate, even tempered and consistent new sweetheart.

I think the lesson in this is what we are willing to tolerate when we settle for less than we know we deserve.

I hear so many friends talk about their lovers like they are walking on eggshells. They tolerate crumbs. They love them, but they don't seem to like them. Seems to me their lovers are like great shoes that just don't fit.

The thing is, romance is supposed to feel good.
If it's a daily struggle, it's just not a good fit.

Last year, I was in a constant state of wondering how things would be with my lover from day to day. I had to maintain a constant vigil to make sure I didn't say or do anything to set her off. I rarely knew the rules of the game, and when I'd learn them she'd change them.

My friends told me they didn't want to hear any more about our latest problems. It had become tedious to them, and I had virtually no support in maintaining such an unhealthy, unhappy relationship.

Now I don't need to discuss my romantic life with friends beyond saying it's great, getting better every day and how lucky I was to find her.

I am not religious, but there is a passage from Paul to the Corinthians that I want to cite on this Valentine's Day. It pretty much sums things up:

Love is patient.
Love is kind.
It does not envy.
It does not boast.
It is not proud.
It is not rude.
It is not self-seeking.
It is not easily angered.
It keeps no record of wrongs.
Love always hopes.
Love never fails.

Happy Valentine's Day, y'all.