The Day after Valentine’s Day
The day after Valentine’s Day is its own kind of holiday — quieter, unadorned, and strangely revealing. It’s the emotional hangover after the glitter has settled. The flowers are still on the table, but they’ve already begun their slow wilt. The chocolates have been picked over. The cards sit open on the counter, their sweetness suddenly louder in the stillness. The day after joy always has a different temperature. It’s not just Valentine’s Day. It’s the day after a long‑awaited trip, the day after a family gathering that briefly made the world feel whole, the day after a celebration where you let yourself forget the hard parts of life. When the music stops, the silence can feel like a drop in altitude. You land back in your real life with a soft thud. There’s something sobering about that return. Sometimes even depressing. Because joy — real joy — lifts us. It suspends the weight we carry. It lets us forget the logistics, the griefs, the responsibilities, the chronic worri...