I really hate Valentine's Day. I always have.
When I was in my teens, if you'd asked me why I hated Valentine's Day, I'd have said:
"I hate Valentine's Day because it's an extremely crass Hallmark Holiday that is celebrated purely to guilt you into spending far too much money on poorly made crap You don't need a special day to tell someone you love them and you certainly don't need to buy overpriced trinkets to say it." At this point I'd snort with derision. "And quite frankly, anyone girl who judges me by how much I'll spend on her just isn't girlfriend material."
Now, that's what I'd have said, but what really meant was:
"I don't have a girlfriend and I hope everyone who does dies in a fire."
You see, up until recently, Valentines was basically 'Feel Like an Ugly Loser Day'. I, like Ralph Wiggum, was the kid in Elementary School who spent Valentines Day gluing glitter to construction paper only to have the girls I gave them to act like what I was giving out sparkly syphilis instead of a hand-made cards. At the end of the day, my little mailbox was always empty.
I actually dated in my teens, but the planets never aligned and I never found myself with a girlfriend on Valentine's Day. Every year the ads would come on, the mushy movies would be on every channel and it felt like the world was gloating.
The thing is, right now I'm happily married to the best woman in the world, and I still hate Valentine's Day. The reason is a lot more simple.
Habit.
Seriously. Despite the fact I'm happily married, I can't shake the whole 'Valentine's Sucks' thing.
Maybe there's a class or a special type of counseling I can go to or something.
No comments:
Post a Comment