I cannot remember one year of my life when I’ve managed to be in a relationship on Valentine’s day. Birthday? Yes. Christmas? Yep. Thanksgiving? I think so. Halloween? Whoa Nellie! I remember that one!
Perhaps that history is what has served to embitter me about this stupid fucking holiday.
For whatever reason, this year’s Valentine’s day is being shoved down my throat from all sides—more so than usual. People at work have put up red hearts and cupids and valentine “love” decorations (all of these girls are married, of course). The morning news programming all repeatedly remind me that the weather for Valentine’s day should be “as beautiful as love itself” (gag!), and TV commercials all remind us that the perfect gift can be purchased just about anywhere, and that shops will be open late to accommodate the working man’s schedule!
It’s as if Valentine’s Day is the new Christmas and I’m living on the Island of Misfit Toys (I think I’m the Charlie in the Box)!
If it is, what about all of us in love’s “secular” community who are alone on this faux-holiday season? Those of us who just got our hearts broken, or are alone again for the umpteenth year, are completely left out—in fact, we’re made to feel bad about it! I have some girl friends who insist that they don’t consider Valentine’s day important, but I know a lot of male friends who say they’re going to buy their girlfriends/spouses something anyway, just to be safe. Everywhere I feel this sense of superiority coming from couples, as if they’re all saying, “I’m better than your perpetually single ass ’cause I’ve got someone who cares about me!”
Well la-dee-dah.
To which I reply, “Did you know that more relationships break up on February 14th than on any other day?” It’s true. A little-discussed factoid I recently heard on the news. There are many reasons why they think this happens. If a person is in a bad relationship and feels particularly bitter about it, Feb. 14 is the day they choose to deliver the bad news—in order to be that much meaner about it. For others, buying flowers and saying “I love you” on Feb. 14 is just too much commitment to handle. More divorce papers are filed (and served) on that day than any other. In fact, I’ve also heard that some particularly resentful spouses now demand that the Divorce Server videotape the encounter so it can be watched later. Wow! That’s bitter!
A hundred million years ago, when I was young enough to still believe in love, wore White Shoulders perfume, and took bubble baths by candlelight, I dreamed of the day I too would be taken out to dinner, received a dozen perfect long-stemmed red roses, and was proposed to on one knee. This was, of course, tied into my dream of Lochinvar riding up on a white horse, but that’s a story for another day. Each year, on Valentine’s day, I’d make the day special for myself and remind myself that there was still hope. “Maybe next year.”
Well, I’m a grownup now. I don’t wear White Shoulders anymore. I still take bubble baths on occasion, but they discontinued my favorite bubble bath about 10 years ago, and the candles are too messy and too much trouble. And believing in love? Well, to be honest, I want to, but every time I get my heart re-broken, I feel that much more distrustful. This last betrayal hurt worse than any of them—I mean, if you can’t trust a friend, who can you trust?—and I just don’t know how I’m going to ever get past it. I understand that’s common right after a messy breakup, but still. I want to believe it could still happen, despite everything, but let’s face it: the clock is ticking.
So…
I propose that we officially dub February 15th as St. Singleton Day! A day to celebrate all things that don’t suck about being alone (some days, that’s a short list, but be imaginative!). Single people everywhere should do everything that marrieds are dead-jealous of us for. Sleep ’til noon! Go on vacation or out to dinner without getting a babysitter! Go out and spend a large amount of money on something you want without having to ask permission! Burp and fart in your own home without saying “excuse me” (try it—it’s fun!). Drink milk out of the carton! Lay around without being nagged! GO WILD!
… or just be glad you’re not one of the ones being served divorce papers on the High Holy Day of Love. (gag)
That’s how I plan to deal with it this year.
"Men fell in love with Margaret, but they woke up with me." [Then they tried to chew off their own arms to get away. Hah!]—ed.
Dude, I am ALL OVER THAT! Aside from my bitching and moaning last night and feeling sorry for myself, there definitely are some things that don’t suck about being single.
Everything is exactly where you left it, no one eats your favourite food and leaves the empty package, you can spend an entire day off in bed and no one ever needs to know.
You’re right, sometimes the list is really short, but other times it’s exactly the right length to make sure that we don’t go and fling ourselves off a bridge in frustration!