I think I saw a little fella with a bow and arrow and angelic wings flit by the other day. It is, after all, his time of year. As Santa settles back to work in the North Pole, Cupid warms up his wings, checks the fletches on his arrows, and takes to the sky. Shops are bathed in shades of pink and red, every possible foodstuff is being carefully wrangled into the shape of a love-heart and greeting-cards writers across the world are scratching their heads as they think of a new way to approach ‘Roses are red, violets are blue…’

Yes, Valentine’s Day is around the corner.

As we approach this day of celebrating love and romance, it’s worth mentioning the other side of that coin, the side most deftly described by one of the queens of romantic comedies, Nancy Meyers – “there's another kind of love: the cruelest kind. The one that almost kills its victims. Its called unrequited love. Of that I am an expert. Most love stories are about people who fall in love with each other. But what about the rest of us? What about our stories, those of us who fall in love alone?”

Unrequited love is something most of us will have experienced at some point in our lives, and perhaps not just in the classical romantic setting…

How many of you reading this column still think about a show they wish they had seen, or worse, a show they were desperate to see and then were left disappointed on finally watching it? How many of you have a show that is the one that got away?

I will never forget my abject disappointment on realising, while halfway through a tedious evening of laundry and other housework, that I was supposed to be sitting in a seat in the Abbey Theatre watching a production of By the Bog of Cats. It was the end of the run and I had been looking forward to the show for weeks, but when the day came I entirely forgot that my ticket was for that night. It played to mixed reviews, and there will certainly be future productions of the play but, still, seven years later I occasionally think of that missed production with a sting of frustration and regret. In seven more years, I probably still will. It is, without a doubt, one of the ones that got away.

Other shows, I never even got a ticket to in the first place. Alice in Funderland played just a few years before I began my Dublin theatre-going in earnest, but I read about it and just know I would have loved to have seen it. The Great Gatsby at the Gate was an exciting new work opening Selina Cartmell’s first season as artistic director, and a new chapter in the theatre’s history.  As well as being a buzzing moment in Dublin theatre, it drew together so many things I love – beautiful 1920s clothes, immersive theatre, exuberant music and dance and a striking, timeless story – but I never got around to buying a ticket. Myself and a friend said we would go, but as so often happens in life, other things got in the way and in the end the run (and its revival the following year) had passed us by before we got the chance to go. And of course, there are the productions closed by Covid before they ever got off the ground.

There’s a whole back catalogue of missed theatrical love affairs. However, if I dive into them all now, I’ll find myself half-way through a tub of ice-cream, gently weeping over a copy of Endgame as I think of the Old Vic run I never got to see, while All By Myself plays in the background á la Bridget Jones.

The good news is, there are always second chances. Whether it’s revivals like Corn Exchange’s Dublin by Lamplight, which originally ran when I was just eight years old, but which I was thrilled to see in 2017 after years of reading about this landmark play, or if it’s an unexpected find in the place of what you planned. I’ve made some brilliant discoveries at theatre festivals just because the play I originally wanted to see was sold out. Trust that the shows that you are meant to see will come along.

Even better than second chances, grab the first chances when you can. This Valentine’s Day, make a date with a show, and maybe you will find the theatrical love of your life. It could be Endgame at The Gate, Portia Coughlan at The Abbey, the Rough Magic Rough Weekend showcase of new writing at Project, New Para at The New Theatre, Into the Woods at the Lyric Belfast, or a new dance work at Dance Limerick’s WHAT NEXT Dance Festival.

Book a ticket, take your seat, and fall in love in an ephemeral theatrical moment.