BLOG: Forever Alone
Valentine’s Day…my personal most hated day of the year. For eighteen years of my life it has come without fail. As a child it was a glorious day, filled with Valentine’s Day cards from my classmates and sweet candies from my parents. Growing up opened my eyes and lead me to the opinion I have reached and hold onto today: Valentine’s day sucks.
Now, you may not believe me when I say this, but I don’t only hate Valentine’s Day because I’m forever alone. I also hate it because nothing disgusts me more than nasty sessions of public displays of affection, which are sure to be seen in the hallways on that fateful day. Kissing, hand holding and making out are just a few affections Valentine’s Day holds true to. When I was in second grade, it was a fun, enjoyable day. Everybody made cute mail boxes to have goodies dropped into. We were each given a list of all the students in the class and were to bring a card or candy for each. Well, bringing one for everyone was suggested. It didn’t always happen, especially when you were the new girl and had more lice than you did friends. Yes, this girl was me. And even with these troubles, I continued to look forward to Valentine’s Day. It was a generally good day, until I reached intermediate school.
Fifth grade was the age when boyfriends actually became boyfriends and girlfriends were really girlfriends. No more cooties and no more throwing rocks at the boy you thought was cute. Instead of throwing rocks, you threw notes written with gel pen, two boxes stating yes or no and a question you were too nervous to say out loud. Hand holding was the latest gossip. Valentine’s Day would come around, and instead of everyone getting something, only a person’s special someone got it instead. Giant teddy bears, whole boxes of chocolate and the school wide Val-o-gram fundraiser. “Buy a carnation for your special someone and have it delivered during last block.” Worst idea ever.
For some reason, the Val-o-gram remained a yearly event through middle school and has been taken over by a match-maker quiz in high school. In high school, each student wants to out-do the other. Cars are tagged with window marker, dozens of roses are delivered rather than the modest single carnation and for some, Valentine’s Day holds a popular place as the day to ask someone to prom.
For my eighteenth year I’ll be single on Valentine’s Day. I will do this, not with my head down and looking at the tile moving underneath my feet, but with my head up and a proud smile on my face. I’m independent and can wait, though sometimes impatiently, for that “special someone” to come around. I’ll give disgusted looks to those displaying their affections in the hallway, and congratulate those who were asked to prom. I’ll help friends with gift ideas for their significant other and be happy for those who love the special meaning behind Valentine’s Day. And finally, I’ll look forward to the Valentine’s Day I will get to share with someone special one day, and I will reassure myself that no matter how lovey-dovey I become, I’ll keep my public affections to a minimum.