cardboard hearts.
Last night I saw massive traffic jams, and I was thinking about the couples who were willing to brave them just to congregate in the center of town in table-island pairs and go on a date. As they gazed into each other’s eyes, perhaps they would feel a sense of romance suggested by ubiquitous heart formations, background music, the Gentle Supportive Hand of media, restaurants, and hotels in the entire city.
I’ve always felt awkward about Valentine’s Day for that reason. It never felt like my celebration. A romantic date on that night would feel like a public performance, one that I don’t feel I need to stage to prove any sort of love. It doesn’t help that it isn’t even a solo performance, since within the restaurant’s radius alone there would be several couples playing the same show out; several pairs of good outfits and people all out to make a good romantic night out of it, simply because it came to be expected on this day.
So much fanfare is made of it that you would think food all over KL was weeping with joy at being part of a Valentine’s dinner, sliding past sweet-talk lips into well-loved stomachs.
Then we slide money into a black applause, it swallows it up in a clap. It gives you a receipt and you might be reluctant to throw this one away, because of the date of the date and the date itself. You might take that home as proof that you did not let this day down. Your date holds your hand and both hands feel accomplished.
Last night I thought a lot about the word ’special’, used a lot by the Gentle Supportive Hand. But how is it defined? And who gets to define it?
It is my relationship, nobody else’s.
And it’s common knowledge that couples love by their own definitions.
(I hope.)
I had a really special day yesterday. But it doesn’t mean that I fell in step. It wasn’t a formula, it wasn’t accessorised, it wasn’t a tribute to the idea of love. None of it was an act. I felt the Gentle Supportive Hand coming to caress my back. I slapped it away and had a lot of fun running, leaving menu sets and music and flowers and cards behind.



Stir the coffee