Despite my anxiety about Valentine's Day (someone loves me, someone loves me not), the red day took off to a good start.
As I was driving to work, I noticed a helicopter flying very low in the Parkwood area carrying a banner that read, "Waleed, I think you're so special. Love Kim". It made me smile knowing that, somewhere out there, someone was brave and foolish enough to open her heart and empty her wallet in such a grand gesture of love.
However, after spotting the 100th Teddy bear and the thousandth happy couple buying roses for each other, I was almost ready to gag - mostly because I didn't get a Teddy bear or a rose. Sad (and selfish) but true.
So after a whole day of using every ounce of strength not to commit genocide on the masses of love-lost fools, I found myself sitting at home, alone, on my very comfy couch. And I got to thinking that I was behaving irrationally. Because let's face it, Valentine's Day is just another commercialised farce.
Although I understand the idea behind celebrating a man who sacrificed his life for the strongest emotion known to mankind, I don't understand why everyone has to go cheesy with little singing cards that cost an arm and a leg.
But before you start thinking that I am just an angry, bitter bee with an itch, allow me to explain A few years ago, while still studying, I met this guy.
Dressed in a blue jeans and a Manchester United T-shirt which I despised (at the time I was a Liverpool fan) he was utterly magnetic because of his disarming smile - the kind that makes your soul smile, the kind that warms you from head to toe, the kind that makes you drop your defences and fall madly and deeply into that tumultuous ocean called love. Disarming.
In addition to being witty, polite and funny, he was also an incurable romantic. He's the kind of guy who would walk to the shop at 22:30 because I said I craved yoghurt.
One of my fondest memories is of him leaving Technikon, driving to my house and convincing my grandmother to let him into my room. When I got home I was not only shocked and surprised but actually bursting with happiness to see my room decorated with flowers and a Teddy bear. Why? Just because.
And for the duration of our relationship, he would buy me little gifts, bring my favourite flowers to tech, write sweet little letters and with every small gesture, make my heart soar. Why? Just because.
In retrospect, it's easy to understand why he remains my first love but, as with all good things, our relationship came to an end. He recently explained that although he was offering me all his love, I wasn't appearing to return it and although he didn't expect anything in return, he wasn't even sure that I was receiving what he was giving.
Knowing that my inability to express myself was one of the biggest reasons for the demise of my best relationship was a big bitter pill to swallow.
My point? Don't wait for that one day to say how you feel, buy the singing card or the single rose. Do it now. Just because. Or you could find yourself sitting on the couch...