Valentine’s Day. It’s finally here.

As a person who’s been single most of my life, I’ve never been particularly bothered by Valentine’s Day. It is what it is, just another day.

I was never one to get worked up about what the day is supposed to be, supposed to mean, should be, what supposedly should happen on it.

Some people fall into a trap of reading messages into Valentine’s Day. They start thinking, “There’s something wrong with me if I’m not in a relationship.” Some people start believing, “If I’m not part of a couple, I’m a lesser being.”

I think that’s self-destructive foolishness. Other people can get upset and bothered when things aren’t the way they think they “should” be; I learned along ago that expectations are the road to disappointment and pain.

Nonetheless, this year’s run-up to Valentine’s has disturbed me.

Over the past couple years, I’ve had a growing disdain for all things romantic, in particular anything to do with weddings or marriage. I’ve grown to loath it, sneer at it, just plain hate it. I’m back to a place of bitterness and anger I haven’t visited in a very long time.

I positively hate watching TV and seeing loving couples, portrayals of loving marriage, new marriage, the lead up to marriage, the aftermath, the honeymoons and anniversaries and pregnancies — any of it. All of it. I hate it and the more I see it the more I hate it.

What is the approach to Valentine’s but one big portrayal of romantic bliss? “Look how happy they are, buy our product and you’ll be happy to.” Whether it’s a kiss beginning with Kay or the latest product from the sex-obsessed minds at K-Y, the propaganda is everywhere.

In normal times, when one of these messages stirs the cesspool in my heart where romance once lived, the sludge settles back to the bottom relatively quickly, leaving me the dirty-brown mire which has come to mark my existence. But at this time of year, the septic mélange is constantly stirred, the anger, bitterness, hate and all their negative kin constantly boil and churn like one big shit stew that never finishes cooking.

In my wildest imaginings, I never thought I could be this old and single, never thought I’d never know love…. And, frankly, at this point, I don’t think it’s worth knowing.

Valentine’s Day can neither come nor go soon enough. It’s a dark-chocolate, explosive-diarrhea smoothie I’m sick of having forced down my throat.

Drink up, young lovers.

And, oh yeah, Happy Valentine’s Day.

Posted: February 14th, 2010 under Blogging, Life Journals.
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