Dear Valentines Day

Dear February Fourteenth,



When I was a kid, I loved you. I got to make fun crafts for you, which I would bring home to my parents, who would praise me for being so talented at the art of putting-tissue-paper-on-the-top-of-a-pencil-and-then-gluing-it-to-a-heart
-shaped-piece-of-construction-paper. You made me feel good about myself. There were valentines, and candies. My mom used to buy me little love presents, and my dad used to buy me little stuffed hippos with hearts on them (I loved the shit out of that thing, dad, thank you so much). When I was 10, I got my dog as a present on your day. (R.I.P. Louie. I love you, brave soldier). Things were good. When I was young.


When I was a teenager I used to be angry at you. I used to say that you were a Hallmark holiday created so that people would spend money. I said that if people really loved each other they didn't need one specific day to talk about it. I used to listen to lesbian feminist music and say "fuck you, Valentine's day". I glared at the girls who got cheap roses from their boyfriends during lunch. (Whatever, most of those girls have already had babies by now, so I guess the joke's on them). When I was 16, my friends and I got drunk in the bathroom of the art building during school, cheers-ing in the handicapped stall to "this day blows". Good times, in retrospect.



I used to hate you. Then, when I got older, I realized that my hatred for you was more deeply rooted in the fact that I was a lonely teenager and had never had anyone to show their love for me on that, or really any other, day. Upon discovering that, things got much better. I had many days with you spent with various boyfriends over the years, and they were all nice. Some were more eventful than others. But they were all nice. Because you and I? We finally understood each other. One of my fonder times with you involved an ex-loved one, bowling, tequila, and getting my own membership to a pornographic video superstore. And I thank you for those memories.


But now, Valentines Day, it is 2007. And now, I just really don't care. In fact, when I woke up today, I didn't even know it was Valentines Day. I've seen a few dudes on the subway carrying flowers to their supposed or would-be sweethearts, but other than that, it is just like any other day. I feel completely unaffected by this holiday. Leaving my current love situation out of this (as I must), the most that will come of you this time is that I will spend some hours with Julie-lou downstairs, and we will remember getting drunk in the bathroom. I might have a couple of drinks with a friend, talk about my other friend's Dramatic love-situations, and do some work. But that's about it. Nothing I wouldn't do any other day.

So what happened? Where did we go wrong? DID we go wrong? Am I just getting older? I'd hate to say that my history of strong feelings towards you has come to an end. my apathy towards you currently, leaves me with no other choice. Or, perhaps we're just taking a break. We're on hiatus from one another. Maybe next year, Valentines Day. Maybe next year I will love you, or hate you, or have some new understanding of you. But for now, take care. I'll catch you next time around.

Sincerely,
The girl who lost her Valentine's dog (rip), remembers her ex-boyfriends, and wishes, just a little, she could still drink vodka in a handicapped stall in secret.