Thirty-four.

Hallmark should offer me a sponsorship deal.

It's the Friday before Valentine's Day and I'm on my way out of a local Hunanese restaurant with my food when I see someone playing his video game.

I have a bad habit of eavesdropping, of being nosy, and every man I've ever dated has chastised me for my lack of propriety. They say that I'm not as slick as I think I am; the finesse that I imagine myself possessing in spades is, in reality, much less abundant. In my defense, I say that I'm curious, observant. I'm intrigued by the lives that others lead.

It's a bad habit of mine, but I just like to know. As I walk past the customer seated at their table, I recognize from the corner of my eye the pixels on his screen. All of a sudden, I was transported back in time to those winter nights when I was curled up in bed next to Jim.

As a corporate CPA and a definite workaholic, Jim virtually never stopped thinking about his job. Fourteen-hour shifts daily were his bare minimum, and he seldom took time off on weekends. He once told me it's a self-esteem thing: the satisfaction he derives from completing his assigned tasks is the foundation of his self-worth. I, not at all as dedicated to my work, rather enjoyed observing and teasing him. When he did allow himself a respite, he would grab his iPhone and fire up what I always called his accounting game because its mechanics were mathematical and achieving the objectives required diligent numerical adjudication. Even when he wasn't at work, he was still accounting. In that apartment, into which I'd helped him move, I spent my evenings laid up in his bed, watching him work.

Valentine's Day approaches with inevitable certainty and I can't help but remember all the men who loved me until they didn't. The Lovers, my favorite tarot card, first came into my life resultant of my gruesome breakup with Henry, but I simply can't stop myself from being a hopeless romantic. I've always been this way.

The Lovers (VI) from my tarot deck.

When Henry and I began to break up, I latched onto anything and everything for emotional support. I begged my friends for help. One of them recommended that their friend do a tarot reading for me. Although I had never sought out the tarot for anything in the past, I immediately agreed. I wanted all the spiritual guidance I could get. I FaceTimed the friend, Zelled her some cash for her time, and watched the cards come to life. For my first reading, she pulled:

The Lovers, reversed
The Tower, reversed
The Magician, reversed
Knight of Cups, reversed
10 of Cups, reversed
Knight of Wands
7 of Wands

Basically, she explained, the cards did not portend good tidings for my relationship. A calamity had struck, and my relationship was a casualty. Big changes were making waves in my life, and all I could do was go wherever the tides would take me.

Of course, part of me was skeptical, because it seemed too fitting to be true. How could she have pulled such perfect cards for a breakup? Still, although I hated that the signs pointed towards a permanent breakup, not a joyful reunion, I absorbed her every word. Her subsequent readings for me continued this theme. Again and again, The Lovers reappeared, exclusively in reverse. I trusted her, but I just wanted to confirm for myself that she wasn't yanking my chain.

So, I went onto various apps online (in lieu of getting any proper work done) and sought out strangers who'd had readings done for them so that they could recommend me their tarot reader. I DMed one of those readers on Instagram, explaining that they were highly recommended to me by one of their past clients. There are innumerous Instagram accounts that specialize in providing tarot readings virtually, but my inquiry to this new reader was slightly different. I'd had these certain cards pulled for me during a reading, I wrote to them, and I wanted to know without providing any further details what a neutral party would make of these cards. I just wanted their unbiased interpretation.

This is what my Instagram reader wrote:

The Lovers, reversed: A choice not being made, a failed connection. Two people actively deciding not to move forward or to not meet each other halfway (lots of ego in this).

The Tower, reversed: Upright, this is actually a blessing of card as it means what was built on shaky ground will be rebuilt; it’s hopeful in the upright. In this position, upside down, the foundation of this connection is failing, presently feeling like things are stuck or being withheld. Feeling like a crisis is coming, super heavy and dark feelings with this. (So sorry you’re going through it or have been going through it!)

The Magician, reversed: Feeling like you don’t have any options in this scenario, like you’re lacking in some way or perhaps don’t have what it takes to overcome this. Feeling like you’re not able to show your power. This card represents Gemini or sometimes Virgo. Your friend may be dealing with one of those signs or is one. We are in Gemini season presently. Regardless, this energy is not permanent. It is transformational.

Knight of Cups, reversed: A spilled cup. Perhaps a romantic offer or other opportunity that hasn’t panned out. This is water sign energy (Pisces, Cancer, Scorpio) so one of those signs could be at play. Of note, the Knights are a more youthful and not mature energy. As quickly as they come in, they tend to leave. This was likely a swiftly developing connection, and now it seems that, as quickly as the feelings or opportunity was presented, it is now withdrawn.

10 of Cups, reversed: A divine union, the desired happily-ever-after, is not coming to fruition; a break in a connection, lack, loss, disharmony; emotions are definitely in turmoil.

Knight of Wands and 7 of Wands: Both are interesting here, and that’s why I wanted to see where they were pictured in the spread. Could mean that there is still passion here, someone has fire in their chart, or they are still hopeful for a reunion but it won’t be a mature approach. It will be a passionate approach, or someone is still pining for someone sexually. It is a low vibrational approach to a connection for sure. Someone is guarded about that, or is guarded about getting into a strictly physical connection.

I'm aware of the argument about the psychology behind the tarot, astrology, and mysticism of the like. I know that overly general claims are made and that my brain immediately assigns those claims to each relevant event in my life, giving credence where there would otherwise be skepticism. In my sad state of mind, I was happy to hear anything even remotely reasonable from anyone, even strangers. Certainly, their interpretation sounded applicable, even logical.

As I read and reread those Instagram messages, I thought with pangs in my chest about the messages on that very same platform that Henry had sent me after our first Valentine's Day together: "Thank you for planning this for us" and "I had a lot of fun" and "Nobody's ever treated me like this before." Apparently, not one person he dated before me had ever organized a proper date between them for the holiday.

I believe that Valentine's Day is only as significant as I want it to be. For the first two decades of my life, I stubbornly ignored it, castigating it for being a shallow Hallmark marketing ploy. But, the men who came into my life in my 20s showed me that I didn't have to be so cynical. (Especially my first boyfriend, who had loved with abandon.) It might be gaudy, it might be cloyingly sweet, but it was also what I made of it. So, if I wanted to plan a nice meal and a bumper-cars-on-ice outing for the man I was dating, why not? I wasn't always so verbally forthcoming with my emotions, but I at least knew to make up for it with my actions. Henry got the ice rink in Bryant Park, Jim got the Michelin-starred restaurant, Jun got the private omakase complete with a rose from the chef, and Alberto got the first gifts I'd ever intentionally given to anyone. Equally, I've never forgotten the donuts that Stephen ordered for me from across the ocean, the custom woodwork that Wayne crafted for me, and all the letters from Alberto that I've kept even after all these years.

I think I've been pretty lucky, at least so far. After each breakup, I bemoaned to all my friends the loss because I truly do believe that plainly kind men are rather difficult to find and date, especially those that fit my apparently very exacting criteria, but I've somehow managed to locate a new potential suitor soon after each time. Thus, if ever I'm feeling sad or alone on any February 14, I have only myself to blame—and not The Lovers, reversed or otherwise.