VALENTINE’S DAY: Present
My heart dropped into my stomach as I noticed his dark, messy hair from across the store. My mind began to race as I looked for something to keep my eyes busy while I tried to think of something to do or say. I was scanning the bins of old, withered vinyls, trying to find some sort of nonchalant distraction, when I saw it. The porcelain face surrounded by the soft blue boa, printed on a slowly disintegrating cardboard vinyl cover.

VALENTINE'S DAY: Four years ago
Laughter poured through the door into the almost empty room. I looked up as he closed the small umbrella that was attempting to shield us from the rain. His laughter was deep, causing his shoulders to bounce slightly, like he had been laughing that laugh for hundreds of years. He sat the umbrella down in front of the door and shook his head like a dog, directly over me. I screamed an incredibly high pitched squeal but quickly switched it off when I saw his eyes widen with concealed laughter, hinting for me to quiet down. I whispered a laugh as he took my head into his hands, wiping off the tear-like raindrops that were still seeping from my hairline. He flung his arm around my shoulders, kissing my forehead as he squeezed me closer to his ribcage. He began to walk around the store, looking at every record with intense and exaggerated observation, dragging me along. His eyes scanned every inch of each record until I saw his eyes shift. He yanked my arm, pulling me over to a tattered bin. He grabbed a record I recognized but was not too familiar with. Walking over to the nearest record player, he pulled it out and set the needle down on the fourth ring of ridges. A few seconds went by before “Stupid Cupid” began to fill the quiet store. He grabbed my hand, spinning me around until I stumbled into him, giggling uncontrollably. We danced around until the old couple, whom I assumed owned the little shop, were clapping and laughing along with us. Faces red with embarrassment, we took a short bow and brought the record up to the counter. The old man smiled at us and put the record in a bag without taking our money. His wife told us to take that record home with us because years from now, we will look back at our young love and smile. We thanked them, walking toward the door. I looked over to see a head full of dark hair trying to pry open a door. After only a few seconds, he looked up and realized it was an exit only door. I gave him a mocking glare as he rolled his eyes, walking over to me. He pulled me close as the cold February wind hit our faces and I nuzzled my head in close to his shoulder, wondering if we could really end up like that couple.

VALENTINE’S DAY: Three years ago
He opened the apartment door slowly to reveal a picture perfect scene. He had arranged our small coffee table into a beautifully set table, topped with takeout from our favorite restaurant down the street. The entire apartment was flooded with rose petals and beach-scented candles, almost like what you would see in a magazine. I was utterly speechless. No one had ever done something like this for me before. He took my hand and led me inside, putting a pillow on the ground for me to sit on and walked away. He walked over to the nightstand we had converted into a record player station and pulled out an old vinyl. I could see the silver banner across the top of the cover and my heart began skipping beats. Connie Francis slowly began out of the small speakers and my smile stretched to my ears. He walked around me toward the sofa to get himself a pillow but I got up and followed him. I grabbed the pillow out of his hand and threw it back onto the sofa cushion. I moved his hand to the small of my back and took his other hand in mine. He snickered and lifted me off the ground, spinning me in the air. I squealed as he lifted me, looking back down at him with love in my eyes. He gently lowered me back down to Earth but my head was still in space. I wrapped my arms as far around his neck as our height difference would allow and held onto him like every moment was our last together. Before we knew it, the record turned into soothing silence. Laughter was inevitable as he danced over to the record player and restarted the record. He then danced back to me, taking my hand and spinning me in circles over to our coffee table. He lit the candles he had set and sat down across from me, looking deep into my eyes with his goofy, blue eyes as he swayed his head, mouthing the words to the songs as we ate. I knew then that he was the love of my life.

VALENTINE’S DAY: Two years ago
I tried to slide the key into the apartment door, but fumbled continuously. When I finally succeeded, I opened the door and threw my bag against the bare coffee table. At this point, I was lost, walking over to click on the record player, hoping to boost up my mood. The only thing that begins is Connie Francis, playing from the middle of a song, where we last left off. I could feel my heart physically shatter as each syllable emptied from the vinyl ridges. Steam rose up inside of me as the song progressed but only tears came out. I grabbed the vinyl straight from the player and held it in my hands. I flipped it around, trying to calm myself down and noticed something odd. Written in black sharpie on the inner paper of Side B of the record was a simple “I love you” in the most illegible handwriting a man could produce. A single tear dropped onto the message and I finally realized how much I was crying. I was mad at myself for crying and I was mad at him and I was mad at the record and the love it held within. Tracing my fingers over the writing, I lost my breath and my will to be strong. The record was being held tightly with each of my fingers, leaving lines of pain on my palm, like a guitar string would to the tips of fingers. My hands began sweating from the warm vinyl I continued to hold to my chest. Walking over to the kitchen to feel the cold tile against my feet, the record slipped out of my hands. The sound as it hit the ground was heard in my chest as my heart shattered along with the record. I slid to the ground trying to comprehend what had just happened. My hands began picking up the pieces before my mind could catch up and then there it was. In my hands was the short “I love you” left for only my eyes. The back of my head leaned against the shiny refrigerator as the never ending stream of tears continued and prayed for this day to end.

VALENTINE’S DAY: Last year
Uncapping the deep red lipstick, I applied it with ease and excitement. I looked myself up and down in the mirror, putting on my favorite earrings to finish my look. Every hair stood up on my arms and legs as I braved the February cold, waving down a taxi cab to take me downtown. The taxi was full of roses, available for purchase, reminding me of how commercialized this day really was. As the taxi pulled up to the restaurant, my door was open by a tall man with shaggy blonde hair. He grabbed my hand, leading me into the restaurant. I couldn’t help but smile and feel more beautiful than I have felt in a long while as he pulled out my chair for me and handed me a single white rose. We ate a luxurious dinner full of laughs and stories that kept the night feeling full. I felt as if my life was finally moving forward when suddenly my heart sunk as the speakers overhead began playing the song that filled my heart only a few years ago. I tried to catch my breath as he remained talking. I stood up abruptly before I could even think about what I was doing. I looked to him with bloodshot eyes and with a voice that cracked with every syllable, saying “I am so sorry.” With just those four little words taking my place, I walked out of the restaurant as fast as my heels and dignity could carry me.

VALENTINE’S DAY: Present
I snapped out of my daydream, looking up to catch his glossy, blue eyes still awaiting mine. I walked over to the register, handing the teen cashier my new vinyl. I heard a slight and whispered snicker behind me. I felt his breath less than a foot away from my ear as he muttered “I guess some things just never change.” He glanced toward my now purchased record and smiled as he continued slowly walking past me, toward the door. I smiled back at him with a smile that only he knew the stories behind. “I guess not,” I said through a smirk, glancing to the ‘Enter Only’ sign above his head. I walked out of the shop with a smile on my face when I felt a warm hand intertwine with mine.