To be honest, I’ve always found Valentine’s Day weird. I guess it seemed somewhat absurd to have one day out of 365 to “celebrate” friendship and love. What about birthdays? Midterm season? Over summer? Nights stayed in watching movies because you don’t want to face the world on that occasion you were just not feeling it?
There are so many occasions in which we rely and depend of our closest and most loved ones; why “dedicate” them one special day? Why not many? Why not random days when we feel like giving thanks?
Because of so, for the last two years, I’ve dedicated my Valentine's Day to the place where I left my heart, and try to do the most out of the time spent with the people I care for, and thank them as much as I can.
Sounds corny, I don’t care: boys, Mexico, New York… I do love you, but my heart belongs someplace else.
Here’s to the sun-toasted memories shared with loved ones, that come and go with the summer breeze, pulling my mind back to a city filled with everlasting stories.
Here’s to my one true valentine: Madrid.