OT/OOC

Honestly, I think the worse day of the year is Not Valentine's Day when you have nobody special. Sometimes I don't think it's Kissmoose when you have no home to go home to (I mean in the metaphorical sense- a place you call your own, and family around you who love you no matter what sort of a shithead they really think you are), although, that's a pretty shitty day.

I think it's more often the day after Valentine's Day, when reality sets in and you are left staring over the brim of your coffee cup wondering what the hell to do now.

Not that my V-Day or day after were all that bad. But I've been on the receiving end of listening to so-and-so complain about their day and how awful last night was. I watched a fight last night that almost resulted in bloodshed, and listened politely how another friend is threatening divorce.

I think in part it's because of the high expectations invested into this artificial holiday. We are being programmed to Expect Roses and Chocolates and Dinner and FANTASTIC Sex. Because That Is What Love Is All About. And that is bullshit. There is more in love in a companionable silence than "Honey, we have to talk." I get a lot more out of a shared joke and good conversation than I ever have with a box of chocolates that I know I'll feel like a pig for eating all of. And let's not talk about my own personal issues with Fat and how that makes me feel. I just don't want a holiday that reminds me of my own private hell. I think I enjoyed more laughing about the duct tape than I had been laughing for quite a while, and that was wonderful and romantic. And it was free.  ¶ 6:25 PM