I first knew Valentine when I was eleven years old. It was the years when the girls made pink cards for the boys and the boys took the girls to the movie and the girls were as sweet as the syrupy sugary drinks and the boys kissed the girls and the girls giggled and felt like the most beautiful things in the world.
I am sad to say that despite our rosy beginning, Valentine and I had gone estranged over the years. The main reason is because Valentine never changed. She stayed bubbly and cheerful in her pinkish innocence, she kept bouncing in a life filled with froth, thick chocolaty pleasure and soft toys.
Whereas I had witnessed black holes. I had looked directly into the ripped open soul of the devil himself. I had drunk from his cup and I witnessed how cruel human beings could be to one another. I was there when the tree cried. I was there when the wind wept. I was there when hunger corrupted even the most sincere soul.
I found that I am living in a world where everything is for sale, even love. Especially love. Valentine opted to close her eyes and I opted to open mine.
I see coldness in the general's heart.
I see fear in the soldier's eyes.
I see vanity in the pretty people's soul.
I see despair in the ugly ones.
Incompetence rules.
Freedom is for those who can afford or steal it.
Everybody talks too much and much too loud.
Nobody gives a shit.
Everyone's impatient.
Now that Valentine is no longer with us, I begin to see the point behind her fluffy exterior. I begin to see that maybe it wasn't so wrong to close our eyes for a while. Because by closing our eyes, we could live in an alternate reality, a pink coated realm where everything is resolved by sharing a box of chocolate.
Valentine has passed away. But it is not the time for us to grieve. It's the time for us to celebrate her spirit, and for me the most important thing that Valentine had ever taught is the importance of believing in an imaginary world where everything works in the end.
Valentine will forever be missed.
Let us pray for her.
