I'd Like To

I'd like to spend Valentine's Day with you. Yes, you. Although I know we are not together, or anything, but I'd say we would kick Valentine's Day right on the bum. We'd begin with statements against Valentine's day, which soon build up into a consumerist debate of mass-manipulation for the public to spend their money on heart-shaped cards and roses, using affection for granted. But I would still like to spend Valentine's Day with you.

We'd probably go to the arcade by the beach and waste our coins on silly games. Not that we planned the trip, but it just happen to be the day where we'd end up in an arcade. I'd beat you in NASCAR Race with my beginner's luck but you'd win the rest of the games. I'd watch you play Guitar Hero, living the dream of being in a band for the whole three and a half minutes. The old faded red carpet would be your stage and I'd stand next to you and be your number one fans.

We'd say no to ice cream and long walk on the beach, considering England's weather in mid February is far from comfort of Spring sunshine and heat. But we would stay for a while, making fun with the romantics and lovebirds filling the seats at the cafe by the beach.

Then we'd settle to a warm pub across the park. We'd talk over a pint of Ginger ale. I'd listen to you telling stories about your family; you are the youngest of three and you broke your nose when you were eleven over a fight with your brother. And then you'd stop half way, apologising for talking too much. You'd say that's what you do when you are nervous and excited. I'd smile, asking you to carry on. With you, my other stories can wait. I don't mind listening because I am making mine, with you, as we speak -- you are the story I want to have and tell.

By the end of the day, we would learn to dislike Valentine's Day much less. And I know, I'd like to not just spend Valentine's day with you but every other day too.