The Fourteenth of My Lonely Heart -- Cliched but true

February 14th, a Hallmark holiday designed by all the food, card, flower, jewelry, clothing, (and other expensive item selling) companies of the world supported by therapists across the nation. Calling me cynical? Stuff it up your arse. Yeah, I said arse.

Allow me to explain my seemingly bitter words as I proceed with this book/essay/whatever-you-wish-to-define-it-as. On Valentine's Day, couples have been fooled into the long "tradition" of digging deep into their pockets for valuable dinero to buy expensive gifts that are either useless or will wilt in a week anyway. They are forced to buy fancy pieces of paper called cards, purchase plants that grow on the side of the road, shop and stress for days ahead of time. All the companies previously listed have joined in alliance to probe into their wallets and take all the money they should be saving for more important things (like buying Teresa a one-way plane ticket to Australia).

And therapists? Boy oh boy do they love St. Valentine's day. How many heart broken and single men and women do you think find this sappy pink-filled day painful and harsh and therefore seek condolence on a cold leather couch? How many people do you think this day tears into little pieces, neatly dissected to serve to the psychiatrists who will then hit them with incredible bills, thereby causing further stress and continual service? Lots. Period.

Of course, all you happily paired people out there are shaking your heads and saying, "Geezus, this girl is only saying all this because she has nobody and is exerting her own loneliness into anger towards a wonderful holiday." Well, let me say this . . . um . . . yeah . . . I guess I can't argue with you.

However, I do know that this past Valentine's day, it seemed a little bit darker and sadder to me. Allow me to be human for a few brief paragraphs to explain the feelings that engulfed me and the problems that ensued.

On past Valentine's days, I had refused to let myself drown in my own self-pity and worthlessness by spending my time on endless notes and phone calls with my other single friends. How nice it was to have acquaintances that understood how I felt and could be bitter and sad with me. I don’t know if sitting around and whining was the healthy thing to do, but it's what I did.

But this Valentine's day, I couldn't help but let my "wretched broken heart" take over my mind and bring sorrow to myself. This year, it felt as though I were hurting alone. Not hurting necessarily . . . but definitely alone. It seemed for once everybody but me had found something they could believe in -- someone they could trust and hold. And me . . . well, I sat in my room, staring at my light thinking "wow . . . this sucks."

It seemed that for the first time, nobody was around for me to share my depressing feelings with and nobody was around for me to complain with. For the first time, I felt truly alone. It was as though every last -- allow me to show my Who Wants To Be A Millionaire Side -- lifeline had been used and there was nothing left for me to do.

And the one that I thought I had stopped desiring (no names mentioned for the sake of what's left of my self respect) had suddenly re-broken my heart without my knowing until I started to feel my nose get warm and my eyes get moist. The one that I thought didn't matter anymore said three lines and that was enough for me to wonder, "why is it every time I think I'm over a guy, I'm not?" And it made me go off on a tangent about how much I hated men and how they are more heartache and trouble than they're ever worth. But none of those sarcastic words I uttered in complaint and assurance could pacify the pain that he caused.

And the worst part about that ordeal is -- he didn't know what he had done.

Which brings up another point about men. You can never get mad at them because they are so dumb and innocent that they don't know the stupidity of the actions they take. They don't know how much they hurt you and that ignorance only pains you more.

Now, switching back to my cynical Daria-like persona, let me wrap this up by saying that one of these days, I'm going to sue Hallmark and all the other industries for causing me "emotional distress."

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thanx!!