“We don’t do anything for Valentine’s”, she said.
“Why?” I asked, blatantly, not knowing if I had leapt into her insecurities.
I remembered all the times her eyes glittered while we had our girl chats, about guys and romance. I had known her enough to know that she’s every bit of a romantic, how much ever she tries to deny. And why do I know it with such surety? Because she’s my best friend. That’s why.
She did give a reply, which I never grasped. I had started making plans for her already. Or maybe I did hear what she saying, and just chose to not comprehend it.
I thought of cute stuff, small, yet meaningful. Something that could melt her, something that wouldn’t be pretentious.
I googled things to buy, but that wouldn’t have enough love. I thought of making something, but that might just be an overkill. I was confused.
My mind started quarreling with itself.
“Overkill is better than fake gifts” one half said.
“Is it necessary? “, the other half questioned.
And in through these hazy thoughts hovering over my brain, I just looked at her.
“… And that’s why we don’t celebrate Valentine’s. Or pretty much anything” She said.
” Be my Valentine, this year? ” I asked.
Angel On Earth 