I love my boyfriend. It is a loud love, an arrogant one. A love that takes advantage of its privilege and asserts itself, knowing that tradition gives it permission to be in the faces of others. To rub itself, even when the idea is premeditated. There is little that is organic about love, honest as it might be.

Valentines day is another day that this love takes to its advantage and shouts its own name from the rooftops. Luckily, perhaps, the shouts are drowned out by your own shouts of mechanical love. The love that we all announce on Valentines day.

This mechanical love is often genuine but fall so much through anticipated stages that it seems otherwise. I am tired of mechanical love.

That does not mean I am giving up on Valentines though. No. I will not give up. I will take it upon myself to think through this love, to nurture it how it wants instead of how it is expected to. I will take more than a moment to choose to get the boyfriend his present. For while getting him a bottle of his favourite rugged scent is important, especially if I get it on via discounted deal, it is also important that I share with him the love he deserves.