From Family to Far from It

It's one of those days where again I sit alone on that special day that everyone loves so much, accept for me!

You guessed it, It's Valentine's Day! Blah! I used to really look forward to Valentine's Day a long time ago when I believed in "love." But now that I'm much older it's even worse. I get so angry then so sad, and then angry again, and sad.

The real deal about Valentine's Day isn't really about couples being in love, it's a pagan day of celebration. It's true, and it's a bit crazy. The young virgins would get goat and dog's blood painted on them in celebration of being pure and clean. They would throw a huge gathering for all the single ladies and single men and have this sacrifice done before they celebrate with dinner, dancing and wine.

All the single women that got painted with this blood of purity then would have their names tossed into this huge cauldron in hopes for their future. The single men that night would pick a name from that cauldron and they would match up for that year and even get married if it turned out for the both of them which in most times they did.

So it's not like cupid flew around with his bow and love arrows shooting everyone that was not in love, but instead it's a day to celebrate being single and fertile. So, it's not that bad, if you're a virgin. But that blood splashing with the skins from the animals that they sacrificed isn't something I'd really appreciate. Imagine, the skins from those two animals ripped into strips and made into an animal paint brush.

Back in the day they did strange things anyways, like burning witches that really weren't witches and doing exorcisms on those who they thought were demonic and needed to be exercised. I believe in good and evil, but really? They didn't know much back then and didn't have a lot of experience like we have now on topics that will never go away; witches and demons.

The wonderful day for couples is over rated. Everyone involved in a relationship is expected to buy their loved one something to show that they care and how much they love the other person. The more money or how big the gift is, how many flowers and all the sweets is supposed to replace those three words and make your partner love you even that much more.

I have a problem with that, because how can material things replace feelings and emotions?

"I Love You" is supposed to be electrifying and that much more extra special. The men and women that are expected to spend more each year on their lovers and if they don't then they must not be "True Love."

How can material things replace those feelings? It's a bull line and I think that "love" should not be put on a scale of "if you spend more money then you love your partner more." That's so wrong of everyone to have fallen in this money pit, and actually do something on a personal note for their partner that one day a year.

"What is love if you can't say it? Or show with just a gesture or even feel it inside?"

I don't think "love" should be played with or tossed around like a ball. It's a sacred word that has followed us since the beginning of "mankind."

It's so wrong to play with someone's emotions and make them believe something that isn't real. And it happens this way more and more now a days. Even marriage isn't the same as time goes on, like there are more divorced people than ever before. They get married for the wrong reasons.

Mark and I had a life planned together, we met and fell in "love" right from the start. I hadn't been in a relationship for many years before Mark and it felt so right. Everything was perfect; from kissing to the sex and drinking and having a great time. I was told the things I wanted to hear and played for an idiot at the end.

I was so excited about having a great guy in my life and in my kids' lives. We were going to have a nice home, and really cool family members that travelled and partied and did everything together. Well, let me say this to everyone that is with someone who needs their family around for everything and even when you don't get to go shopping for a home but instead the in-laws go and pick out one for you.

I did so much to show "love" and make sure every time we got together that I showed appreciation and that he was my man. I showered him with sexy outfits and lots of sex, I pleased him in so many ways that I was even surprised that I could do some of those things myself for him. It was everything any man would want; Well, I thought would want. I was wrong, and everything was crushed in an instant for me and I was left with his name tattooed into my side with my name and linked with a ribbon banner around a dagger. I would never have gotten this crazy thing done if I wasn't planning to have him in my life for long.

"Paige, how could we do something so stupid?" over and over in my head is all that I do now. It's been 3 years since that day it all came crashing down, and in an instant we were no more.

"Love is not the real deal if you need your family around more than having your new wife to be."

"Am I right?" It's so used and abused already that maybe we should replace that word "love" with something better. Why not? It's a word that gets tossed around in hopes to catch someone for a few moments and give them what you wanted until they get decide with their family; like mom and dad, brother and his wife, then the sister and her husband to the other sister-in- law.

I cried my eyes out when I was told that our home was picked out because he went with his parents and not me and they decided that it was our new home. And not just that but I couldn't do anything to it inside. The colors were terrible and so were the 1980s thick, shaggy rugs everywhere. It was killing me on the inside. I wanted to be part of this huge change, my opinions and what I wanted my home to look like.

"Paige, my mom knows real state more then we do and I didn't want them to complain about the house so I thought going with my parents and calling my sister-in-law and asking them what they thought was way more important then having you around."

That's the bull I was fed and I couldn't even paint because his family thought that the colors were fine and not to mess it up with colors that interested me at all. It was need enough room for my family to stay over if they need to, because the house is a few blocks away in Sherwood Park Alberta and that might be too far for them to drive when they drink more then the average person.

But my little boy was only 5 at the time and there was no room for his toys and play area because the basement had to have a wet bar for family and my son can keep his toys in his room. They don't need to scattered around and tossed everywhere. His family might trip and hurt themselves. So, after this I had mixed feelings and wasn't sure what to do. Until that one day I saw Mark in a whole new light.

Went with him and his whole family to the golf course for the first time, it was the long weekend and I couldn't bring my son, he had to stay with my oldest daughter because they weren't invited, just everyone from his family and kids and other family members only. My kids were not welcome.

I was so hurt and misplaced that my feelings were not so strong anymore or I didn't look at him like before. He ruined it and I was starting to not like him or his crazy, drunk family. I sat sipping a beer with Mark's dad and having a good chat, until Mark's brother's wife came stomping over to me and started screaming and calling me a "gold-digger." How could these people make this kind of pile of crap and feel good about themselves? I was only after his money, I was using him, I only was looking for a free ride, Mark was a sucker for the "muffin," if you know what I mean. It was so harsh and so hurtful. The whole family was yelling at me and crowding me and in my face calling me harsh names and making me cry in front of my son who was only 5. Then he was crying because he was scared, and I was the "Bad Guy who Broke and Used Mark."

I tried to talk and nobody would let me. I was being crushed and made into a fool for nothing. I loved Mark and I really wanted a life with him. But that night it was pouring rain and I had to carry my son and our things on my back half way from Sherwood Park back into the city of Edmonton because everyone was drinking and couldn't drive and I couldn't get a cab, had no cash. They wouldn't even help me get back home. I cried and cried all the way home. That was so far. I was so soaked and so was my boy.

"I will never fall in 'love' again and ever put myself into a situation where I was less worthy then the pet dogs that everyone had too."

"Paige, 'love' doesn't exist and it's for good people that have money and don't have to work so hard to make a pay cheque."

"I should be alone and I am not worthy enough to feel what 'love' is like so stay away from people and shut yourself off from the world."

After this happened and got over this embarrassment and gained my self-worth and dignity back, I still haven't dated or gone out with someone or even made "love" to anyone in 4 years now. I am still so scared for myself and won't dare to take a chance when I know "love" isn't real for me.

I used to believe that "love" is such a beautiful thing, it was magical and made you do silly things for each other, and could never be apart. Plus these other amazing feelings and what ever else goes with "love."

I still think about having someone in my life, and I dream once in awhile that I have someone that loves me and I love in return. But when I awake, it hits me that I'm alone all over again and that's when I face the facts that I'm going to be alone and "love" was nice once or twice. And that's okay.

After this was addressed and talked about to help get over this terrible experience, I never looked or even bothered to find "love" again. Every time that Valentine's Day comes I just want to be left alone and have quiet time to myself. I do miss that companionship and the sex, but I have only one heart and how many times does it have to be ripped out and stomped on because of "love?"