My own Valentine

It makes for a good anecdote to tell people that I’ve been dumped shortly before Valentine’s Day for the last three years in a row. It’s the truth, and I can say it just bitterly enough that you might think I resent the fact. But really, the dumpings weren’t done maliciously and Valentine’s Day means nothing to me outside of its prescribed connotations. I wouldn’t expect anything from my partner except maybe a card and a good dinner, at home or elsewhere. Also, maybe a flower or two.

I can understand why somebody who thinks their relationship isn’t working might choose to end it before any symbolic obligations kick in. My friend Jenny has also heard that the alignment of starts and planets at this time of year causes many relationships to end. Whatever the reason, I have been forced to be my own Valentine for the past eight years. I think I’ll be treating myself to chocolate, wine, and a totally non-romantic DVD-watching marathon. And I can have those things any time I want.

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