With apologies to devout religious types (Greetings, but why are you reading this column? No offense, but don't they kick you out of your clubs for associating with the likes of me?), this is what I declared upon running into one of the giant Valentine's Day displays Retailer X had situated in the center of its establishment.
I just wanted to run into the store and grab some essentials. You know. The basics. Milk, oranges, condoms, hair products. Having what little self esteem I possess ripped from my person and left to drag behind me like some bloody carcass was not on my grocery list. At least not this week.
But that's exactly how I felt running into this monstrosity. Heart shaped decorations, boxes of chocolates, cards, and terrifying stuffed animals in various shades of pink and red with their psychotic smiles and dead eyes glaring at me piled high from floor to ceiling. It was enough to make me want to take out a major artery, but I was afraid that would only contribute to the display's cheerful color scheme.
Bitter, party of one?
Okay, I admit it. My animosity towards Cupid's holiday is a little ridiculous, but not without merit. Being single, which has its advantages I assure you, really sucks this time of year.
For one day of the year, I get to sit by and watch family, friends, and total strangers bask in the glory of their commitment to each other. While they're all sending each other candy and flowers or having a romantic dinner, where am I? Alone. Which is probably good. I'm not sure how I would explain to a suitor why I'm lurking in the bushes with a pair of hedge clippers having just wiped out a total strangers rose garden or why I'm carrying matches and lighter fluid (to burn Valentine cards, silly!).
I'm not sure what I want. I don't want a serious relationship, that's for damn sure. I perform better in a show written, directed, and starring myself. There is no room for double billing on this marquee. The spotlight belongs on me. I know that may sound selfish and self-centered, but to me it sounds practical. I like being independent and self reliant. However, I do get lonely. And I'm not talking about the kind of loneliness that's rectified by meeting someone and leaving your underwear hanging from their ceiling fan (I have that covered, thank you very much.) I'm talking about the kind that is filled by someone who randomly calls you to tell you that they love you, or shows up unannounced just to see how you are. I'm looking for the kind of person that makes my entire day, hell, my entire life, better just because they're alive and in my life. No cute stuffed animals or floral arrangements required. When he shows up, I know I'll be ready to return the favor.
But until then, I'm going to be a whiny bitch and piss and moan about Valentine's Day. And I will probably get arrested for setting fire to the giant eyesore that taunts me and my singleness at Retailer X. Happy couples get to celebrate their day their way. It's only fair I get to celebrate mine my way.
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