When I told my parents that I had a new boyfriend (this was about two years ago), they burst out laughing. Like, hysterical laughter. I think my mom fell off the bed she’d been sitting on. My father started crying from near asphyxiation. It was definitely… not what I’d expected. Once they calmed down enough to breathe, then speak, they explained themselves: they thought my high school best friend and I had discovered we were lesbians and were in a relationship; they had thought for a while that I was gay.

I’m not, so my particular gene-set tells me, anyway.

What, you ask, could have lead them to this conclusion? I’ll tell you. Facebook.

One evening, my high school-aged sister had accidently left my page up on the home computer. On the relationship line, as it’s been since my freshman year here, it says: It’s Complicated with… I don’t remember why we did it, probably for a laugh. It’s still there today.

My parents explained that they were fine with me being gay, but that they didn’t know how to broach the subject, seeing as this was a time when Facebook was still exclusive to actual students and they’d been snooping and took the information on it to heart. Good. Grief.

Awkward laughter followed as I newly affirmed my straight-ness and we all went on with our lives. But why am I telling you this fair reader? Well, Valentine’s Day is approaching and I’m reminiscing. This is the first year that I’m on the same continent as my significant other; it’s the first year I have the option to celebrate this silly holiday.

Don’t get me wrong. I hate it. God-awful shades of pink decorate my grocery store, both my CVS’s and the arcane lacey contraption I am stereotypically encouraged to buy before the weekend because I’ve got a significant other person who is going to give me, if he also follows the V-Day plan, flowers, chocolates and a fancy, free dinner. Ick.

Perusing my Facebook News Feed and a string of away messages, it appears there are two main types of V-Day backlash: those who hate the institution of romance that the day represents, and those who wish they had someone to share it with. I think it’s stupid that the Powers That Be specified a day for mandatory appreciation of your significant other. If you need a reminder, well, that speaks to a bigger issue. If you don’t have someone in your life at the moment, (and, oh yes, I’ve been here) it’s like a big, flashing sign that there must be something WRONG with you.

But the V-Day backlash has got me thinking about something bigger. While no one says this explicitly, I think there’s a larger drive at work: find that special someone to love forever and ever, even though you’re only 21. For a lot of people, that’s part of why they date, even if they don’t like thinking about it. Friends of mine are already getting married, and pretty much everyone my age that I’ve talked about the trend with can say the same. People our age are getting married! So why can’t I find a guy I can stand for longer than two months?

I think a part of it is sexual attraction, and I only say this because I used to work in a bookstore and spent a lot of time shelving in the love/relationships/sex/self-help section. ‘Society’ has always outwardly equated love and sexual attraction, despite the fact that most of the anecdotal evidence I’ve heard would say lasting love comes from a foundation of friendship.

There’s this concept I really like called ‘koi’. Here’s a definition from the text of the New York Times Book Review where I first learned of it: “a term used in Japan for a sexual relationship free of the melodramatic trappings of love, founded on camaraderie rather than romance,” from the article about Amelie Nothomb’s Tokyo Fiancé. I love these relationships! It’s a great concept. Essentially it’s “friends with benefits”, except for the addition of exclusivity, which means you shouldn’t have to worry about catching anything nasty and an emphasis on the “friend” part. And most importantly, it’s a relationship based on the fact that being in a relationship is supposed to be fun. And, who knows, maybe something long-term will come of it?

In that vein, this Valentine’s Day, instead of looking for love, or sex, I suggest you find someone who makes you laugh. And be safe, be smart.