Were's the Love?

Chapter 40: Porking the Boar and A Dog's Nose

Well, we made it.

Jason is healthy and I didn't kill him. I suppose that means I love him. I mean, I have to if I managed to keep my sanity while taking care of the mutt. Believe me, nursing someone back to health was harder than I even imagined it would be. I don't know how my mother does what she does. She has even less patience than I do. Granted, I guess she doesn't really have to do much of the nursing herself. She gives her patients a check-up, prescribes them some medication, and sends them on their merry way, leaving someone else to deal with their sick asses.

Honestly, she treated me the same way she did her other patients the few times I got sick. Maybe that's why I had such a difficult time with Jason. His mother clearly catered to him a lot more than mine did. I lost count of the number of times I had to run to the store to buy something for him the three days we were home together.

Now, I know what to expect so we can get on with our lives until the next time Jason decides to ignore my advice and get himself sick. Hopefully, that won't be for a very long time.

However, he was very apologetic when he finally did get better. He bought me daisies and wrote a little poem to make it up to me. It was all very sweet. It makes me curious about what he has planned for tonight.

Why, you ask?

Because tonight is our first Valentine's Day together and I know Jason's been working on something special for us.

I never really cared much for Valentine's Day. There's always so much pressure put on people to find love for the day. If you can't, then you get the same sad, pathetic looks from everyone because if you can't find someone desperate enough to be with you on Valentine's Day, then it's like you're doomed to spend eternity alone and forgotten.

If you do have a partner, then the pressure is there to find some way to shower them in expensive or phony expressions of love. For men, it's buying flowers, chocolates, jewelry, a stock greeting card, and a dinner out on the town. For women, it means putting out. If you don't have sex with your partner after they gave you a gas station box of chocolates when they forgot what day it was, then you're a huge, stuck-up bitch.

You know... Now that I think about it, it's like Valentine's Day is a day of bartered prostitution. The horny people of the world buy a good fucking with food, drinks, and other trinkets. Meanwhile, the other party waits until the goods received are the right amount for the time they'll be spending on their backs, knees, or whatever other position they enjoy. And, let's be honest, the higher the price, the less those horny people are going to have any say in what happens. If you are buying someone thousands of dollars in jewelry just to get laid, you're not in charge. You're whipped.

Sadly, I've never been in a position of power. My previous mates did the bare minimum required for Valentine's Day, still expecting me to put out after they did, and I was the horny fool while I was with Matt. I never accepted anyone's invitation for a date over the holiday when I was in high school. I wasn't going to give the horny assholes another reason to try to feel me up. Like they needed one.

But let's see.

While I was Jeremy, he bought me a card, chocolates, and flowers both years we were mated. They were nice, but nothing extravagant and he pouted until we had sex. Derek just said "Happy Valentine's Day" and expected me to roll over for him. When I didn't, he begrudgingly bought me some cheap chocolates or ordered us a pizza so I didn't have to cook, then dragged me to the bedroom for a quick, unsatisfying fuck.

Now, the one Valentine's Day I was the purchaser, I pulled out all the stops. Romantic candlelit home cooked meal with all his favorite foods, his favorite movie ready on the TV, and me in some very sexy lingerie. It didn't go quite as I planned though. Matt was late to dinner, barely ate anything, didn't want to watch the movie, and left before I could pounce on him in my lacy nightie.