
I hate Valentine’s Day. I hate it because every year, in the days leading up to Valentine’s Day, I become hopeful… hopeful that someone will come into the scene and sweep me off my feet. Ever hopeful that some tall, dark and handsome man will tell



I’ll never forget a particular Valentine’s Day when I was in high school. As I walked down the hall with that “love me PLEASE!!!” look on my face, I saw this girl walking toward me holding the biggest brown teddy bear I’d ever seen, so enormous that she was struggling to carry it. Suddenly the rage with in me started to bubble over. I wanted to take my aggression out on her. I wanted to trip her, take the bear and run. As she came closer and closer, I saw the exact spot on her leg where a minimal amount of effort on my part would cause a maximum amount of pain on her part. A sneaky little voice in the back of my head taunted me, telling me how easy it would be. But in the end, I couldn’t go through with it. “Why should she have to take the brunt of my rage?” I asked myself. Me wanting to trip her was just a manifestation of my bitter feelings of being alone.

I get those feelings of bitterness and loneliness every Valentine’s Day. I even feel despair. Despair at the fact that I’ll probably have to endure many more Valentine’s Days alone, finishing off a whole cheesecake on my own (I don’t recommend doing this, my worst stomach ache ever ensued). I fear that my single status will spread beyond Valentine’s Day and into the rest of my life.

But even though my romantic future looks bleak, and although at times it seems that the only way I’ll ever get a date is if I go out with some smelly, leisure-suit wearing predator of a man with halitosis, I still keep hope alive. I may not find my sweetheart today, or tomorrow, or three years from now. It may not happen for another five years, but one day I’m certain some one will love me. Some one will do back flips for me, snatch up the moon and stars just to please me; some one will appreciate me for the neurotic, dramatic, silly person that I am.
Deep down I can’t really hate Valentine’s Day. I will admit that the only reason I despise it so is because I’ve always been jealous of those who are fortunate enough to have someone they care for, just as they are cared for. I’ve always been terribly annoyed by the fact that it was so hard for me and so easy for them. But I’ve changed. This Valentine’s Day, I’d like to turn over a new leaf, and a new heart. I vow to cast my bitter feelings and self-pity aside. I will look on the brighter side of things, and if I should come across a girl carrying a giant teddy bear, I won’t contemplate tripping her and grabbing her bear. I’ll just think about snatching the bear. Hey… don’t get mad! You can’t expect me to change over night!

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I remember that girl with the teddy bear in high school. And don't lie . . . you pushed her a little. ;-)
ReplyDeleteA good friend of mine once said that while all women are afraid of ending up alone with a house full of cats its far better than being stuck with 1 mean old husband.
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