Can Valentine's Day be my favorite holiday because of the 50% chocolate sale the day after? or because the left-over festivities and warm-fuzzies make the week leading to my birthday a little easier to anticipate?

Or does it have to be because I'm in love with my best friend, and I've learned to love unconditionally, coming home to a messy kitchen when I want to cook or baby-duty when I need a nap, still in awe when I get to fall asleep in his arms? Does it have to be because of the commercialism, being a girl and loving flowers and gifts that will prove meaningless within the month? Do I have to look forward to longer hugs and special kisses, when they would mean just the same any other day?

Can't I love it because he'll love me more the day after? and a little more the day after that? Can't I love it without counting days and planning anniversaries, and just plan tomorrow's dinner? Can I write my girly poetry any other day? hiding it, secretly hoping it will be discovered? and read? and loved?

Do I have to love it for it's stereotypical ecstasy?
Or may I substitute my own?

It hurts me when I can't make you happy, when you come home from a hard day at work and I can't make you smile like I did yesterday. I'm so selfish when it comes to spending time with you. It kills me that you have no idea how much I love you, you don't know the cute little metaphors I use in my head or the reasons I love you and want to be with you constantly.  I'm in love with you AND I love you, as best as I can, as hard as I can, and I will for as long as I can and past that - to the moon and back a million times over.  I hate the person I am when I'm not with you. Missing you is my least favorite thing in the world. The hope I have about my future starts and ends with you. I want to reach the end of the world in your arms and touch forever with your hands. I hate Valentine's day because they tell me this is the only appropriate time to tell you this, but I love it because I can, and I can every day afterwards too.