<3 Day

I've been completely single and unattached for a little over a year now, and in that short time I've already begun to develop a reputation as one of those angry, bitter people who hates Valentine's Day. It's probably because I spent the prior week telling everyone I spoke with "I hate that day," "no, I'm doing nothing," "no, I have no plans," and "I'm trying not to think about it." The truth is I love Valentine's Day. I love love, and there is little I enjoy more than contrived reasons to make romantic gestures and eat cheap chocolate.

Now that I think about it, I realize I've never actually spent Valentine's Day with someone. All of the years I had a boyfriend it fell during the week, and that doesn't work when you're living far away from each other and going to school. My junior year in high school my boyfriend sent me a dozen red roses. I loved it, but my mom freaked out. "Red means passionate love! You're sixteen!" Yes Mom, and he loves me. We were so young. The next two years I had a different boyfriend, one who majorly lacked in the whole department of treating me like a princess. He lived at school, so he had an excuse to not do anything major. I think we must have done something on the weekend before or after, but it made such a big impression on me that I remember completely nothing.

These past two Valentine's Days I've spent working, trying to keep my mind off of the fact that no one wants me. It's National Singles Awareness Day, and that's what I hate. I have nothing against happy couples showering each other in adoration, and I hope I eventually get to participate in it. What I hate is being made painfully aware of my own... well, I could say just single-ness, but is that all there is to it? I'm not sure about everyone, but I think for most people, at least myself, being single for an extended period of time suggests some sort of defect or fault. It's like there's something wrong with me that makes me uninteresting or undateable.

My best friend since the third grade came to visit me at work yesterday. He brought me a bag full of candy. I don't know if he realized how much he pulled me out of the thoughts I was spouting in the previous paragraph. I'm the only one of my friends who doesn't even have a love interest, and most have an actual relationship. But he listened to me when I vented my frustration and sadness, and unhappiness about that particular day. And even if he took the candy from his mother and the bag and Valentines from his sister, which is a valid possibility, I still have a friend who thought of me and decided to cheer up my day. And as little of a gesture as it may have been... it did cheer up my day. Thanks Michael.

Anyway, after work I went home, watched A Walk to Remember, bawled my eyes out (just like I do every time I watch that movie), and ate myself into a chocolate oblivion. I was satisfied.