And flowers, chocolates, and candlelight dinners are everywhere.
As this season of love descends upon us, I thought it's a good time to share a little more about my partner J.
I met the charming nerd when I was 23, and he, 24 in early 2002.
It wasn't until late-December that we officially got together.
This is the story of the night that changed our lives.
After being friends with J for some six months, I realised that I had taken an interest in him.
So I bravely asked J out on a date - but didn't know exactly what do, and I seriously needed help.
Help in the form of Stanley my sex bunny friend.
Stanley had been a friend I met back in my national service days.
We had grown up together - I watched Stanley transform from a pudgy youth to an energetic lean mean fighting machine in NS and later, blossom into a full-fledged Venus Trap.
And so, I enlisted the advice of Stanley who helped me device a multi-dimensional date where every possible permutation of my would-be meeting with J was carefully considered and plotted.
The end goal was a happy ending, just the way how Stanley wants his massages and some dates to conclude.
The plan was water tight according to Stanley - and it was perhaps the only time the word tight was accurately used when linked to Stanley.
If we were in a movie, the setting of Stanley's instructions to me would have been in his attic bedroom, with J and my photos stuck on a large white board, multiple arrows and scribbled notes fanning across the board.
The grand plan was this.
Rule number one: I was to refer to the "date" as an outing, Stanley insists.
"Two men, unless both proven gay, go on an outing - not on a date," Stanley said.
Little did we know that the date would turn out to be an outing after all, in all sense of the word, but let's not jump ahead of the storyline.
The theme of our outing was "New Year Resolutions".
Stanley had very cleverly come up with the perfect excuse - that I needed J to help me fine-tune my swimming strokes given that J had trained with the national swim team.
And then, as a return of favour, I would buy him dinner.
Oh, and the best part is, J would be invited to sleep over.
On the afternoon of Dec 27, 2002, J met me at my family's condo unit - which had been left empty because we couldn't find tenants.
The afternoon went well - J had corrected my front crawl strokes although for me, it was very, very hard to focus.
J was in excellent shape - not a single ounce of fat on his mildly V-shape body.
He had the flatness and the bulges all in the right places, while I was the exact opposite.
After some hour-and-a-half of being in the pool, we made our way back to the condo unit where we took turns to freshen up.
I remember ordering pizza later and watching an afternoon movie.
I cannot remember exactly what pizza we ate, but I remember precisely what movie we watched that afternoon.
It was Conan the Barbarian, starring Grace Jones as Zula.
Because I was so nervous spending time with J in such close proximity, every time Grace Jones appeared, I instinctively spat out the word "bitch!", which amused J greatly.
And then, it was time to sit at the dining table to write out grand New Year Resolutions.
And one of J's aims for 2003 was, I kid you not, "to drink more water regularly" (in retrospect, J did achieve that, up till this very day).
Meanwhile, for me, I had been a dreamer and I let it go that night - I charted some serious resolutions that touched on where I want to be in my life, and how I want my career to take off (in retrospect, I too, achieved those aims).
But at that moment, I was not only dreaming big - I was also fantasising big.
My mind was not fully focused.
My heart kept fluttering and I kept stealing glances at J.
As night fell, it was time to go to bed.
And this was the most tricky part.
There were three bedrooms in the apartment, and one room was set aside for me during that lull, non-rental year.
And my super single bed actually had a pull-out mattress underneath which either of us could have slept in.
Stanley had firmly instructed me to tell J that both other rooms were reserved for tenants and J could only sleep with me in my room, on my bed.
"And ask this casually bro-to-bro, bloke-to-bloke," Stanley said, before he butched it up and demonstrated.
"Eh brudder, sorry ah, you must sleep with me in the same bed. You don't mind right, bro," Stanley said in a thick, barbaric voice which made want to slap him and call him bitch!
In retrospect, I would hug Stanley in full gratitude.
J had casually shrugged it off and said ok to sleeping on the same bed.
After all, he wouldn't take up much space.
That very night, I couldn't sleep at all.
I remember my heart beating very fast.
Finally, I turned to face J, who I realise was all along looking at me squarely, his eyes not diverting.
Then, I plucked up my courage and did something that would change my life forever.
I placed my right palm gently over J's left cheek, and my exact words to him were "I like you a lot, J."
J responded with a coy smile and I knew there and then that he felt the same.
We hugged in bed for the very first time in our lives, and that was when I realised that J's heart was beating very, very fast too.
The rest of the night - which Stanley refused to believe to this date - was spent just cuddling and sleeping in each other's arms.
Happy Valentine's Day, dear reader.
May you find your J too.
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Adam's stories are based on real life events and inspired by real people
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