nobody likes valentine's day

i hate valentine’s day. i’m pretty sure i’ve almost always hated valentine’s day, and if i ever did, even remotely, enjoy valentine’s day it was probably because of the snacks. i even hate valentine’s day more than i hate christmas, and the only reason christmas wins is because christmas always brings more finger food to the party.

the only time i really enjoyed valentine’s day was this one time in middle school when a boy i liked handmade a card for me that i may or may not still have.

but besides the times with snacks and the one time in middle school, i basically have always hated valentine’s day.

i’m not romantic. in fact, i kind of hate romance even more than i hate valentines day. it’s never felt very organic to me. the thought of someone saying something romantic in my ear makes me so uncomfortable; i’d rather go to the dentist than go on a fancy date.

for the most part, human contact makes me cringe. unless i really love someone and i want them to touch me, every second of unwanted contact makes my skin itch. my body is such a private thing that i love and take care of, that i don’t want someone touching it unless they ask permission or i invite them in.

but valentine’s day this year is really scary to me.

because it’s another new milestone for me. my first valentine’s day as a single adult.

valentine’s day was never a day full of fancy dinners and outfits and chocolate. it was a day of whispered “i love yous” in long distance conversations and a bouquet of daisies and baby’s breath with a note about how much valentine’s day sucked, but i didn’t. there might be a nice dinner, but it was clouded with sweatshirts and wellies and a weekend expiration.

it’s just a weird thought, to be alone on a day when the rest of the world is holding on to each other.

last year i was laying around my apartment when i heard my phone ping. a valentine’s day proposition i should have said no to, that i instead said yes to. i ended up reading patti smith at my favorite bar because, despite dating three to four men every few weeks for the last three months, i thought the bar tender was the most consistent and supportive man in my life at the time. he deserved my silent company and my tips.

my phone pinged again. a second proposition. i was waiting for this bicycle messenger i really liked to ping my phone and then maybe ping me, but all of my backups were calling in their backup, and my phone sounded like it was on a countdown to implode.

so i said yes to the one backup that i thought was most likely to turn into something more, the one that i had hoped might ask me to be his girlfriend if i could trick him into falling in love with me.

the night ended with free drinks and not enough of my book read. i think it says something when you’d rather read a book and pay for your own drinks then choke down awkward conversation in exchange for free whiskey.

and as scared as i am to spend this valentine’s day as a real, true, in the flesh single person, i am glad that i’m not the same scared girl i was last year. a girl who was so scared to be alone that she sacrificed her time to be with someone that made her feel less than she should.