My Valentine

I have to admit my disillusionment with this day started at an early age and as I've gotten older, not much has altered my rather bitter and cynical view of it.

I get how we like to give ourselves a day to really celebrate something. After all, we have Christmas, New Year's, Independence Day, Memorial Day, Thanksgiving, Presidents Day and even Flag Day.

Hell, St. Patrick's Day has gone from an Irish priest getting the snakes out of the country to people who have no hint of Irishness in them getting downright piss drunk before having to try and show restraint the other 364 days of the year.

Valentine's Day is supposed to be the day we set aside to both show and tell the significant other in our lives how much we really love them. And I guess therein lies my problem with it.

For me, one day just isn't enough for that. That's something to spend the rest of your life doing because if you really love someone that much, it should be fairly easy to do.

I've been single for three years now and despite that, I find myself not wanting to be bitter or angry today, because I remember how good it felt on the days when I could tell the someone I hold dearest to me that I still loved them that much and always will. And even though right now, it hurts a whole hell of a lot to know that I can't anymore, the fragile little optimist of my Yin is always telling me that maybe someday...if I'm lucky, I might.