For some people, Valentine’s Day is that one special day where total dedication and attention is given to you and your partner. Its a day for total commitment and undivided attention. You find yourself waking up to flowers, grabbing a cute breakfast, receiving gifts, and of course, ending the day with a big over the top dinner that costs a fortune (but you don’t let anyone know that). Its the one day where you can be absolutely, irrevocably in love with your person without people thinking that you’re “doing too much.”
However, for the single people of the world, Valentine’s day is that blaring reminder that your person hasn’t crossed your path yet. The path you swept and decorated all for the hope that they’ll wander down it, but, instead, you get a situation-ship; one that thrives on giving you some insane mixed signals, love bombing you, leaving as quickly as they come and sending you that timely “hey, you up?” text.
But whatever, never mind that, arguably what’s worse is watching your favorite ex move on. In a desperate attempt to cheer yourself up, you hit that midnight snack run (that you know you’ll regret) only for the store to be head to toe in pink and red hearts with baskets of oversized bears you have to pretend you don’t want.
While you try to cover up your intense fomo with the typical “Valentine’s Day is a corporate made holiday” bit you put on every year, your friends see right through you, as if these aren’t the same people you complain about your “singleness” to every other week.
And suddenly, the next thing you know, everyone and their mamas are in love. The couple that was fighting last week, the neighbors, the dogs, your ex and his new girlfriend (who conveniently looks exactly like you), and you’re just sitting bitterly in your oversized sweats watching rom-coms to judge and scoff at even though you’re secretly jealous.
So, while you try your hardest to convince yourself that you don’t need that kiss and a $70 dollar dinner, you also have to be honest and admit that if you were offered it, you wouldn’t pass it down. So, you make your jokes and cry your tears reminiscing on the ex that you love but your friends hate, and then suddenly you just reach the point where you genuinely think that Valentine’s Day is a personal attack on you by the universe—that for the rest of your life, you’ll be beefing with heart shaped candy boxes and having to block couples for your “mental health,” but whatever. You fall asleep on the couch eating some chips and wake up the next day feeling fine because your frantic feelings only happen on the fourteenth.
