In a comment posted on my last entry,Vomit Day#2 , Drake asked if I had any positive Valentine's Day stories.
Answer: No. None. Zero. Zilch. Nada.
Exception: I don't count my parents; they have ALWAYS tried to do something sweet for me on that wretched day, and I dearly love them for it. Likewise, I don't count the days when we were little ones and Teacher practically made everybody give everybody else one of those little single sheet cartoon-y Valentine's.
No, I'm strictly talking about the boy-girl, man-woman Vomit Day experiences. For me, if they weren't flat out terrible, they were nonexistent.
Even when I tried a silent protest by wearing thick black eyeliner, a black top, tight dark jeans, and dark nails on that ungodly day, I had people say, "Ooooh, what a pretty look on you!" or "Do you have a hot date tonight?" So not the ideal reaction. I'm protesting people!!! How is this unclear?
I've never gotten flowers, whether via an e-flower or in the flesh; I've never gotten a Valentine's card; I've never gotten a cute little Valentine's cuddly-something. Nothing. You know who got those things? You guessed it. The girls who were a sure thing or the seriously mean girls--we're talking MEAN with rotten intentions. I've never understood it.
Confession: I'm a hopeless romantic, so I WANT to like Valentine's Day, I really do. Even though it's totally over-commercialized and terribly cliche, I would love to know what it's like to have just one good memory for that day.
Until then....I will hate it with a burning passion that's stronger than a million suns.