Although black is my favourite colour yet I don't fancy its literary meanings. As we all know, Valentine is a season of red (I'm still trying to figure out why), its a season of love where couples do red things (whatever that means.lol) and its a period of romantic acts.
On Valentine's day last year, I was still very much single to stupor while my friends were all practically swimming in the red pools of relationships. So I was left cuddling with the red stew my mum brought to school for me that cold romantic red morning. I didn't have any plans for the day, all I wanted to do was eat up the chocolate my friends will be receiving ( my long throat symptom).
The gifts started coming in by late noon, girls in my hostel were opening all kinds and sorts of red things. Some red phones, teddy bears, cakes, shoes, letters, pads (I'm still wondering why), underwears, toothbrushes, towels, chocolate, perfumes, and one girl even got a red version of paracetamol. I wonder if the guy wants her to die of headache or something. However, I kept laughing and rolling on the floor while watching various reactions from the girls; all ranging from sweet "awwns" to sour WTFs.
That day, my Valentine was a red comic relief and I was still enjoying it until a phone came in from my ex while I was eating the last portion of my mum's pepper stew in the late hours of the day. He told me to meet him outside my hostel and since we still kept good communication I didn't hesitate going out.
We were chilling in his car when he handed me a black box with my name crested in gold and upper case on the left hand side "ERICADIANAS". I opened it and I saw a black plastic rose with a red wedding invitation card. He was inviting me for his wedding. "But why the black rose? Can't you just invite me Like that?" I asked him but only in my head. We had broken up six months ago and he was so fast in moving on. I wasn't even ready to have an handshake with just any guy and he was fully ready to tie me out for good.
I froze in time and words, not knowing exactly how to respond or react. I wanted to ask him why he was so mean but I decided to be mature about it so I appreciated and congratulated him on his wedding and hopped out of his black car.
I got back to my room and just before the girls started cheering and screaming, I threw the red card and black rose on the ground and buried myself on my bed. I wasn't crying and I wasn't laughing; I was just stuck somewhere between bitter and cold and I stayed there for some days till I realized that I too had to move on.
The remaining hours of my valentine that day was specially to review black memories and eat chocolates that were gifted to my friends.
....and guess what?? I ended up drinking two tablets of the red version of that paracetamol. I guess it was useful anyways.