Or should I say V-Day….Vomit-Day… International Single Awareness Day…
Ahh yes the day that love and romance comes at us single folk like a freight train. Those damn marketers are so smart, they know how to find us.
We see television advertisements of Valentine’s themed ice cream cakes, cookies, candies, and even doughnuts – Timmies!
Television shows on how they make those delicious strawberry swirly cheesecakes which, by the way, have no direct connection to Valentine’s day besides its colour and deliciousness.
“Why not look elsewhere?”
Instagram ads from McDonalds and Durex condoms, hmm a big mac with a side fries and a Cola followed by some ribbed for her pleasure condoms is totally my idea of a romantic night..
The Twitter … I’m sure there is something there but I don’t tweet often enough to see.
Then there are the reminders as you are walking through a mall or in a grocery store … let me buy my strawberry swirly cheesecake, for one, in peace!
I am a happily single person but V-Day is the one day I just want to stay at home and watch a gruesome horror movie. Preferably where the couple totally dies! Dark and Twisty is how I like my life.
I have only been in a relationship once on Valentine’s Day, that shouldn’t have been the case but I was persuaded into trying making it work, again. Habs was an online match and he was perfect. He bought me flowers cause he missed me or when I was having a rough week. He allowed me to vent my frustrations no matter how incoherent they were. Knew exactly what I liked and bought me the perfect gift for Christmas and Valentine’s Day. He rearranged his entire schedule to come away with me for the weekend not knowing the end of that weekend was the end of us.
I will forever regret the series of events of that weekend, I do know that Habs is happy and has been in a relationship since we broke up.
Perhaps that experience is the reason why I dread that day. Unfortunately it started long before Habs. It could be seeing a relationship move forward but years later shatter apart, shattering more than just the heart. Being surrounded by couples in love and wondering why there isn’t anyone next to me. Having a small part deep inside that wants all the grand romance only fit for The Bachelor, while the realistic one in me knows it’s foolish to hold out for those gestures. Who knows?
Why do we always look back at what happened? Or look forward at the train barreling towards us?
Why not look elsewhere?
This year I stop looking at the freight train, preparing to be struck. I’m looking down at the track to see the lever next to me. Knowing that pulling the lever saves me from a critical hit, and derails the train. It sends that train on a detour, around the bend, until it comes back again next year maybe this time I won’t be facing it alone.