Editor, Daily Nexus,

Valentine’s Day, a day that will forever live as “the day” of cheap flowers, boxed candy and a night of dinner and the movies for thousands of people across the country. It is a time for love to blossom and to be reaffirmed and for pure expression of those deeply hidden passions. And yet, this one day a year – bolstered by the American society, supported by Hallmark and marketed by the flower and candy retailers across the nation – is an obligation for relationships.

Typically, the male of the relationship is obliged to express his “love” for his partner, and yet he isn’t expressing it willingly. Forced to perform in society’s circus due to the judgment hereafter, he doesn’t want to be deemed a horrible, love-hating, heartbreaking, bunny-killing monster who would rather renounce one of the sacred Hallmark holidays than announce his love for his fair damsel.

If you couldn’t tell by my anti-consumerist, love-bashing banter, I don’t like Valentine’s Day. I don’t like Valentine’s Day because it gives guys an excuse to be boring and unromantic for the rest of the year. I mean, come on, if you are really into a girl, shouldn’t you express it boldly more than one or even five times a year? There are 365 days in the year, and even at five times, that’s once every two and a half months. Surprise her with flowers on a random day; leave notes in her car, notebooks and room; take her to watch the stars; or bring home her favorite ice cream and a movie just to cuddle all night. By showing her more often how much you care, the importance of Valentine’s Day fades into the brilliant heights of love.

So this year, if you really want to follow in tradition – because you’ll be in the doghouse for the rest of the week otherwise – make her something with your hands, not your wallet. Write something more than “I love you” in a cheesy card or a signature on your credit card receipt. Let her know how you feel without the sugarcoating: Love in the raw.

And one more thing: Forget about those cute little candy hearts; there is nothing that says “I hate you” more than those gross, pastel-colored globs of so-called sugar. Well, maybe Marshmallow Peeps.