As Valentine’s Day approaches I am very aware that for the first time since I was 16, I have no Valentine. I know, I’ve been lucky. The thing about Valentine’s Day is you either love it, or hate it. It’s a totally commercial, Hallmark holiday, and I LOVE IT. It might be my favorite. I don’t need a specific day to tell people I love them, but it’s fun to have one anyway. :) It’s like,
"TODAY I’m EXTRA aware of how MUCH I LOVE YOU!!”
“I Love you Every Minute of Every Day, but today I will buy you something and give you a card.”
These events have combined into a storm that has led to some serious nostalgia for ex boyfriends. . . Only the good ones, of course.
Actually that's a lie. Oops.
"There are many things that we would throw away if we were not afraid that others might pick them up." --Oscar Wilde
This is a fancy, adult version of this:
"Toddler Rules Of Posession: If I like it, it's mine . . . . If I had it a little while ago, it's mine. If its mine it must never appear to be yours . . . if it looks like mine, it's mine. If I had it first, it's mine. . ."
I totally do this. Even if I did the dumping, I have this crazy wish that in the back of their heads my exes pine for me; the one that got away. The one no one else compared to. Luda ris, irrational, embarrassing, i know.
I've said before that I struggle with mind reading and black-and-white thought distortions. Either everyone loves me, or no one does. Either everyone wants to be with me, or no one does. If they aren't with me it must mean I am practically deformed, stupid, uninteresting, unworthy, unlovable, and destined to be alone for all of eternity.
Lest you think I'm totally delusional, I am aware there are much worse things than being single; having an eating disorder, for one. Being in an abusive relationship, for two. (I've done both.) And the list goes on. And yet, I still completely love V day. I love flowers and hearts and flying, winged, diapered babies carrying weapons.
Frank was a terrible valentine. . . He hated chocolate. Who needs that? Pffffff.
Mr. Darcy, I'm waiting!
Or Clay Matthews.