Je t’aime: On Sale Again


It’s Saint Valentine’s Day… again… and that must mean we’re here in Consumerville spending heaps of money on worthless tat.

Well, almost everyone. But certainly not me. For the second year in a row I find myself devoid of the necessary incumbent for the kind of romantic accoutrements that impede my progress through the supermarkets of Kent: I’m single… once more. And, to be honest, quite happy to be on the side-lines of this year’s love-fest.

Every middle of February (Why February? Why the heart of winter? Surely, May would be a better month?), we are suddenly allowed to get mushy, slushy and gushy with our significant other. On this day we have permission to give each other (providing, of course, you’re with an other) tacky cards, out-of-season flowers, over-priced chocolates, and, for the daring among us, sexy lingerie. (Yes, that’s where the daring comes in.)

For just one day of the year (okay, two – with Christmas), we’re allowed to do this. Which means it’s frowned upon for the other 364 days?

Come on. How much does an I love you cost? Saying that any time, regardless of the day, the month, the year, will cost you nothing, but it will be worth a great deal. Seriously. If you love someone, say it or show it everyday, any day, and you will see the benefits. I’ve found, in my limited experience of long-term relationships, that spontaneity coupled with a constant drip of affirmed affection, goes quite a long way in this love game.

If you insist on spending a small fortune on informing your significant other how much you love them, please be original and try not make it look like you’re making up for the next 364 days. And, please, don’t propose to her or him at some sporting event in front of thousands of spectators. Please. I’m still haunted by the image of a young man in the US who proposed to his girlfriend at a baseball game (I think); live on TV, too. The girlfriend was clearly not ready for such a step and courageously declined the offer. Annoyingly, the crowd booed the young woman as she left the stadium very upset. Then the producer took great delight in watching the young man following solemnly in his (I presume now ex-) girlfriend’s footsteps and under a cloud of utter embarrassment. Let this be a lesson to us all!

In the 1970s and ’80s, in the UK, lots of cars carried stickers saying: A Dog Is For Life, Not Just For Christmas. For many reasons a good love should be considered in the same (or similar) vein. Love is for life, not just for the exclusive exploitation of Saint Valentine’s Day. (Life here means that period of time begun when one looks at one’s heart’s desire and thinks, Corrrr, she/he’s gorgeous.) And so, too, are chocolates.

So, have a happy Valentine’s whether you’re with or without, and I hope you experience many, many warm and love-filled cosy nights in through-out the year.


Malek Montag

Rochester, 2017


Picture Credit:


About malekmontag

I am a writer and a wage-slave, and proud father of George Giraffe. I live in the UK, but I exist everywhere. My first stories were published this year (2016) in Short Stories and Tall Tales (Atla Publishing). Follow me on Twitter @Malek_Montag15. My Work is also available on
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