Love
Happy Valentine’s Day, Even if You Hurt My Feelings
Love grows up alongside us
At first, it hurt my feelings.
Later, I felt sorry for her, not me.
Smiling with shiny, clean teeth, I approached the perky, dewy-skinned, brunette receptionist.
“Let’s get you scheduled for your next visit,” she said. I have one open on — Oh, it’s on Valentine’s Day, but that doesn’t matter to you, right?”
Looking down, I answered, “Not a problem.” I can’t promise my facial expression matched my response.
A tad pissed, and, if I’m honest, a lot hurt, I dragged my tired old bones out to the car. It stings, thinking this is how the world sees me. One look and they assume I am not worthy of love, or at least, not romantic love. This young, lovely woman can’t imagine anyone would call me his Valentine. Maybe it hurt the most because my mirror agrees with her.
Then it hit me —
This fresh, naive young lady, who’ll most likely be treated like a queen on Valentine’s Day, has no clue what love is and is not. Relying on youth, beauty, and sex appeal she’s like a damsel in distress, tied to the railroad tracks, unaware the train approaches at full speed.
