V-Day: a conspiracy theory

You can explain everything using a conspiracy theory.

Like why there is a V-Day and how come it becomes so popular.

Of course, there should be a person with a name similar to Valentine, say, Valentino (and I am sure there must be one, and, Oh! Just say this name like in Italiano. Does it sound like music?), who happened to live in a place well known but not visited by most and should carry a flavor of romance, say, Florence, Venice, and this Valentine or Valentino’s love story must be so unprecedented and touching, that people like to talk about at that time, and in all the following years, until when it becomes a legendary and people know more about what to do in V-Day than who this Valentino was and what he or she did and what his or her love story meant for all these years.

But this is not the point. The conspiracy theory (probably mine) states that the evil group (basically, the girlfriends, wives, and business people) can always find such a person who loved with extraordinary suffering that his or her name deserves a day in a year- to remind others how painful love can be.

Nowadays, probably every man with a girlfriend or a wife understands how painful love can be, especially in a day in the name of love. His duty and responsibility in V-Day is clearly stated and easily understood: Rose, Chocolate, Wine, Candle dinner in a fancy restaurant, and, of course, Gifts. Simply put, to throw away a lot of money on things with much inflated price.

I happen to know a guy who celebrated his 20th birthday months ago. He is a 2nd year college boy. His car is so old that sometimes I wonder if anyone could ever drive it. HeĀ  would not, or could not work, and his daddy, who runs a cleaning business in a ghetto pays his bill every month. This kid has a girl friend. A clever, smiling 19-year old. They got to know each other about 6 months ago and fell in love suddenly. And now it is V-Day.

The night before V-Day, he asked some people to see his gifts. We went down his apartment and came into another, which belongs to some girls. There is a spare room. He opened the door, and we saw, right on the bed, there were a puppy the size of a horse, a bag like the biggest in supermarket, a balloon with a big red heart, and a few small bags. One contained an iHome, an accessory for iPod (of course the young chick is an iPod fan), the other was some kind of card, with all the sweetest words and the ugliest handwriting I have ever seen.

I did not know if that would be good enough or not. What I saw was this boy may have saved a few months’ money to buy these stuff. I began to wonder why this boy not to spend that money to seek treatment for his tic (though of course not enough). Will his girl be happy to see a better boy?

I think there might be something deviant in today’s world about love. That so many people begin to think that love can be measured by money. So, the more you spend on V-Day, the more you love the girl. Is this the idea that the sanctified Valentino tried to deliver? Maybe not. Yet still there is something true- that love may be measured by pain, and the more pain you suffer, the more you love. Maybe that is the logic men are asked to spend such a sum of money large enough to make them feel the pain, and feel the love.

I hope this could be true. See, anything that repeats 1,000 times becomes true. But I do believe that love should not be tested, and should not be measured by the pain it caused, or the money the guy spent. Love is, to me, a thing that is totally depended on trust and belief, and nothing else.

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