There are two Valentine’s Days, as I’m sure you know.
There’s the one you celebrate with the people you love, and then there’s the one you celebrate with your lover.
There’s the one you celebrate with little people running and dancing and screaming around you while their parents—your friends—have a quiet dinner at some undisclosed location.
There’s the one you celebrate with the one person you could spend all day and all night and all year and all life with while your friends chill with your little people.
There’s the one with lots and lots of icing and sprinkles and hearts and sugar and food coloring.
There’s the one with (artichoke) heart-filled shells, in a ricotta cream sauce, with “candles” and twinkle lights.
There’s the one where you spread the love as far and wide as little legs are able to go and it leaves you giddy and excited at all the people you made smile.
There’s the one where you dive deep into the years and years of history you’ve lived and it leaves you feeling grateful and peaceful and happy and eternal.