What's Love Got to Do With It?
Even with a beau, Valentine's Day can be a nightmare

By T.J. DeGroat

I like you; do you like me? Check yes or no.

Ah, the naivete of youth. It used to be so simple: If you liked someone, you told them -- or punched them -- without the paralyzing fear that plagues us as adults.

But times change and love is a major bummer for most twentysomethings. A few of us find long-lasting love, but most of us hide behind walls of false confidence and carefully coded statements that even the CIA couldn't crack. Romance becomes the ultimate game. No wonder so many people hate Valentine's Day.

I'm not one of those losers without a Valentine (Sorry, the truth hurts). But I don't have anyone to snuggle up to either. My beau lives 3,000 miles west and although I've booked a flight to warm California for later in February, I will be all by my lonesome on V-Day, dining on a Hungry Man microwavable feast and the best chardonnay seven bucks can buy.

You see, quarterlife love is not as simple as "I like you, do you like me?" There is a host of variables that plays into this complicated equation: cultural background, career, iron-clad leases, opinionated friends and, of course, that nagging fear that any big change could cause your world to implode.

In my case, distance is the major factor. Email and free nights and weekends make communication easier than ever, but seeing each other in the flesh every couple of months is not hot. (Even that repetitive robot Paris Hilton would be hard-pressed to say otherwise.)

This V-Day probably will see me contemplating the same confusing questions that keep me up on other nights: Do long-distance relationships work? What are the alternatives? Quitting my job to try my luck in the Bay Area's still-recovering economy? Should I urge my boyfriend to trade a city he's grown to love during the past four years for ... Central Jersey? I'm as big a fan of the Garden State as Zach Braff, but Jersey City ain't got nothing on the Golden Gate to the Golden State.

Besides taking a toll on the heart and mind, long-distance relationships take a bite out of the old wallet. Sending a package to San Francisco (two-day shipping, natch, as I always leave things until the last minute) is rough on an entry-level salary. And just try coming up with a stand-alone gift that is cute without being lame and cheesy. Not so easy, folks.

Despite the emotional (and financial) issues, most people would prefer a long-distance Valentine to none at all. Don't get me wrong, I'm thankful that there's someone in my life whose voice makes me smile and whose kindness constantly shocks me -- a cheerleader whose support is unwavering. This guy's generosity and desire to improve himself are qualities I adore (and, frankly, lack). But on Valentine's Day, I put my thing down, flip it and reverse it. What's good becomes bad and what usually has me cracking smiles makes me sad.

Man, this shit gets complicated post-elementary school.

I guess I don't have it too bad. I sent my note, he checked yes and I didn't even have to throw a punch. So I'll be fine on V-Day. Just pass me another jug and wake me when it's over.