quelquefois

The days of February 14 meaning $2.49 Care Bears Valentine’s Day cards, sugarsugarsugar, and more sugarsugarcookiescupcakessugar are over. No more decorating paper bags with our names on them, deciding who in our class gets the “prettiest” or “coolest” Valentine’s cards, and waiting for Valentine’s cards and candies to be dropped into our bags.

For a few years now, February 14 has just been another day in my life. This year, it consists of a day where I avoid writing my thesis by readingthenews-cleaningthehouse-watchingtv/youtube-designingwebsites-postingonmyblog-replyingtoemails, where I forget to take my medication on time, where I worry about what in God’s name I will be doing after graduation.

But Valentine’s Day is supposed to be about sharing a day with your loved one, blah blah blah love love kiss kiss blah blah. Of course, I’m saying this as a bitter single individual who experiences a spark of disdain for those who have loved ones to meticulously plan their perfect Valentine’s date with. Perfect, perfect, perfect. It always has to be perfect. That’s setting the standard a little high, isn’t it? Think of the potential for damage. What are the chances that this significant other/date will be the one you spend your entire life with? If you have a nasty break up, think of all the subsequent Valentine’s Days that will be tainted with such a memory; you will find yourself slouched on the couch with a pint of Häagen-Dazs and re-runs of Grey’s Anatomy reminiscing of better days. Okay, so I’m being incredibly pessimistic about love. It’s hard to pull yourself together and greet the love and dating world with open arms when you’ve been smacked down by it so many times. No doubt, this has definitely been the year for me to be thrown around in the martini shaker of love.

As rough as those experiences were, it taught me that I don’t need a significant other to have a wonderful day, much less Valentine’s Day. My friends can always make me feel loved.