Roses and Chocolates and Bears, Oh My

“I got a rock.” – Charlie Brown, “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown”

If you sell flowers, candy or stuffed teddy bears, today is your day. It is the equivalent of the Christmas holiday season, a chance to make your entire nut for the year. Toss in the jewelers and restaurants, and there are a lot of folks making money off the St. Valentine’s Day lovefest, the final holiday in the overly-commercialized season of socially-imposed happiness that begins with Thanksgiving (think turkey and airline travel), continues through Christmas (the mother of them all) and New Year’s (champagne, tuxedo rentals, large catered parties) before ending today. Frankly, about the only one I can stomach is Thanksgiving, no pun intended.

We’ve all been told we’re supposed to be happy, as if whatever else may be going on in our lives or in the world will somehow disappear. And we’ll be happier still if we just make those cash registers ring-a-ling all across the land. Bah humbug!

For the umpteenth time in at least as many years, Cupid’s arrow hasn’t been fired anywhere near me. I can’t even recall the last time I saw his little naked ass in the neighborhood. But that’s ok. Really.

People in relationships have a heightened awareness of the state of their relationships on Valentine’s Day. They do little things (or big things) for each other as a way to say, “I love you.” There is nothing inherently wrong with taking a day to do that, even if that fact was never in doubt before. If it was, then this day can also create an opportunity to either work to strengthen the bonds or decide if it’s worth it to go on. Although I have to figure getting dumped today would be truly fucked up.

But if you’re not in a relationship, haven’t been in ages, and see no signs of that ever changing, this day is just major suckage. The media will do their annual stories on the price of a dozen roses, do man (and woman) on the street interviews to find out how couples are celebrating, and the day will be filled with reminders that one is the loneliest number. All this glee, with no glee for thee.

I have grown in my own comfortability around singlehood. I’m not as bummed out over it as I was in past years. I have accepted the possibility (probablility?) that this may remain my natural state for the rest of the run and have reoriented my life and my thinking accordingly. I’m doing me now. If someone comes into my life one day, fine. If not, I know how to cook dinner on my own, can take my ownself to the theater and I’m still working towards getting a house, dammit.

Happy Valentine’s Day, y’all!