Valentine’s Day, that holiday created by conniving greeting-card companies, florists, and chocolatiers, the ultimate heterosexist celebration, is almost here. It’s the day when single people are sad they’re alone, even if they are surrounded by people who love them.
Following many years of lonely Valentine’s Days, I appreciate being married to such a catch. Sadly for her, I will be treating our 15th Valentine’s Day like any other day of the year. No last-minute flowers or chocolates, although I have booked a table tonight–yes, I realize it’s the 12th–at a highly touted new restaurant. I’d tell you more but I’ve managed to keep the location a secret for a record four weeks now.
Perhaps it’s time I clear up who’s the Princess Charming in our relationship. You must think it’s J., who is pretty fantastic. She has ridden in on her white horse to rescue me from many a crisis over the years. We met just after my polycythemia diagnosis, following my blood-clot hospitalization, and she nursed me back to health. She has been there through thick and thin (I am referring to my weight, and yes, this is an especially thick period), and has proven her loyalty, love, and persistence in the face of adversity. Of course she deserves the title.
That’s why you should be seated when I tell you I’m the real princess in this relationship. I’m not a bad catch either, thickness aside. I am funny, engaging when I’m not sleep walking, even charming sometimes, a descriptor commonly reserved for psychopaths. (No, I’m not a psychopath. Did you really have to ask?) For a few hours every day, I’m even up for an adventure as exciting as going to a new fancy grocery store. And not everyone arrives home to her own personal psychologist, ready to listen attentively and provide support, or to pour her a beer in her favourite tall glass, whichever she needs most. Who could ask for more?
Thanks to me, J. has been exposed to the world of hospitals and sickness, and has amassed a wealth of medical knowledge by joining me at appointments, to the point where she could now become employed as a patient advocate. What’s that, you ask? It’s a person with extensive knowledge of the medical system who helps patients smoothly navigate that system. Additionally, any medical school would grant her early acceptance with credit for past experience. Look at all the professional opportunities I’ve created for her!
And finally, it’s obvious that, although I am the housewife, J. is the Cinderella in this relationship. She notices the dust bunnies much sooner than I, for example, and as the self-proclaimed superior dishwasher, I gladly defer to her. J. would surely be doing the bulk of the housework were it not for our lovely house cleaner.
Oh no! If I am indeed Princess Charming, will I someday revert to froghood? Or is that some other fairy (read: gay) tale? Your guess is as good as mine.
If you’re single this Valentine’s Day, don’t fret. Love is a many splendored thing, whatever the heck that means.