Those stupid fat, flying babies

It's that time of year.  The world is covered in shades of pink and red.  There are hearts and teddy bears lining all the store shelves.  There is enough chocolate circulating to send the entire population of Baltimore into a diabetic coma.  It's the time of year for loud declarations of love and whispered sweet nothings.

Anyone else as nauseous as I am?

To be honest, I've never been one to swoon over Valentine's Day.  I'm not saying that out of the cynicism of a divorcee, but out of a true dislike for a corporately engineered holiday that plays on the emotions of those in like lust love to guilt them into spending even more money to prove how much they love their significant other.  I firmly believe that if you truly adore someone you should show that person every day through words, actions and gifts. But I digress.

In spite of my general apathy for the holiday, there are a few people in my life that feel the need to take this opportunity to solidify their place in my life.  It appears I have been pulled into playing the part for this holiday.

Luke is still present on the periphery of things.  I must admit that when Dan entered the scene, I pushed Luke towards the end of the line because my feelings just weren't as strong.  Apparently my lack of undivided attention to him hasn't been a total deterrent as I was surprised with an early Valentine's gift today at work.  It was clever and unique.  And very endearing.  Luke officially charmed me with that one.

And Dan... he has become rather ambiguous.  In one way or another - be it text, talk or email - he touches base every day.  If we are sitting at a table together, he will lay his hand on mine and rub his thumb across the back of my knuckles.  He gives every indication that he likes me, but aside from a few kisses he has not made any attempt to take things farther.  He seems content to be a casual date and nothing more.  The problem is that I like him.  I don't know how long I can dig this casual thing.