I hate Valentine's Day. If there was some way I could delete it off the calendar, I would. It's hard to see other people so damn happy. I'd like to throw up all over the whole thing. But really, I didn't hate V Day so much until 1999, when my love life became some sort of sick farce, and I found out my love interest at the time was anything but.
Since then, it's been ruined for me. I can't stand it. It's a big charade. But maybe I'm just envious. A friend of mine tried to explain the difference between envy and jealousy to me. There is a difference. Envy is when you covet what someone else has. Jealousy is coveting that which you already have, or lost. And I'll admit, I'm envious. I'm all sour grapes. I wish that instead of eating cereal and watching "House" that I was out on the town for a romantic dinner and a night of passion.
But there is a virtue to being single on V Day, and the nice thing about V Day being forever spoiled is that I can see the hypocrisy so very clearly. But y'know, I can't help wishing that I was a part of the big lie, and that this collective delusion was something I could share in.