Because I am mildly evil, I have stationed myself in the corner booth of my coffee shop so I can watch all the couples straggle in today, stooping under the immense pressure V Day exerts on hipster Williamsburg relationships. “Do we act above this? Do we embrace the traditions but, like, in a meta way? Do I find out if s/he/they likes me as more than a hookup?” Then there are older, more-established couples (read: smugmarrieds) whose grimly set mouths and shoulders betray their trepidation around this Hallmark holiday–you know, “Is this year he is hopelessly disappointed by my lack of a gesture though we assured each other we didn’t care about hearts and candy? Is this the year she is hopelessly disappointed by me in general?” Sure, this should just be a day celebrating love of all kinds but everyone knows the kind of expectations that get attached to anything that marries capitalism and romance. The tension in the air is so deliciously high as people order their americanos that I scarcely need caffeine at all! But seriously folks: I send love on this WTF day because, well, why in tarnation not?
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Seeking love insight during these topsy-turvy times? Book a reading, dolls.