I hate Valentine’s Day.
I don’t like the rampant commercialism. I don’t like being railroaded into an expectation of gift giving due to a marketing exercise based on a particular day. And I don’t like being alone on said stupid day.
When I was married, my wife and I celebrated three anniversaries (first time we met, time we got back together after breaking up, wedding anniversary). We used to buy each other little things at offhand times as well. Go to dinner on the spur of the moment. That sort of thing. Both of us hated Valentine’s Day. Our own celebrations felt more real.
Of course that was over two years ago, and here I am, lonely and down, hating Valentine’s Day with renewed vigour.
And wishing I could be celebrating that crappy day with someone I loved, instead of lying in my bed typing a stupid blog post about how I hate Valentine’s Day.