“How did you usually celebrate Valentine’s?” asked dear Loverboy a few days ago.

Memories of the ‘same-same but different’ variety flashed like snapshots in front of my eyes.

SNAP! I’m in my late teens/early twenties, the years when I was always ‘one of the boys’. A bunch of my single male buddies and myself are celebrating Valentine’s in a bar with too many drinks in our systems. 

SNAP! I’m in my late twenties, fresh out of a long relationship, and have discovered that I can also be one of the girls, as not all girls are catty. I’m in a bar with a bunch of my fellow single female besties and we’re celebrating.

SNAP! I’m well into my thirties and I’m with a various assortment of my single besties sitting around a dinner table talking, laughing and celebrating.

Valentine’s usually caught me single or (in a cruel display of God’s twisted sense of humor, which my twisted sense of humor could, thankfully, always appreciate) in a long-distance situation where my partner was never on the same continent and the only rose I would smell was the one I would eventually have to wake up to one day.

And despite Valentine’s having caught me on my own enough times for me to start taking it personally, never one to miss out on an occasion to mark an occasion, it was always a day for joyous celebration for me because it represented love and there was so much love in this world to be celebrated—love of family, friends, my cats (of course)… It made no sense to focus on the empty bed that I would roll into when the night was over. 

Plus, I had a secret mentor who would always whisper in my ear, reassuring me that it was better to sleep in my own company than to sleep with an ‘anyone’ just so the number in my bed was two, and not one. 

This wise friend also reminded me that my Loverboy was out there, but that destiny had its own rhythm and tempo, as did my Loverboy’s soul-journey, which would eventually lead his path ‘home’ to me. This very wise friend was called ‘faith’—not the person, but the thing that you have to always hold close to your heart and never stop believing in. 

Then, suddenly, SNAP! I’m now in my forties and the image is one of myself and my Loverboy a few years ago. We’re sitting on a picnic mat on top of a mountain. I am uncorking a bottle of rosé wine, he is unpacking the dishes we’d prepared for the occasion and placing them carefully near the pillows and blankets that we have brought along. Even the fifty shades of gray clouds above are watching with a smile, doing their best to spill not a single drop of rain on us as we listen to cheesy love songs that he’d compiled especially for the occasion.

It was the first time in over a decade that Valentines actually felt special and was celebrated one-on-one with a deeply loved partner. 

I could almost hear my old friend faith whisper in my ear, “Remember, I kept telling you this was coming.” 

And I know faith could hear my thoughts when I said, “ And I always believed you.” 

~ ~ ~

Always fascinated with the magic of love, Bianca Basak has been asking happy couples how they found love since she was a little girl. To show that love can happen to anyone at anytime, Bianca now shares these true stories on her blog to sow the seeds of love and hope around the world, one heart at a time. Read her writing and the journeys of these soulmates on CrazyLoveStories.com and follow her on Facebook or Instagram.