Thursday, February 16, 2012

Love May be a Battlefield, But Being Single is a Minefield.


 [via]

I was determined to be a good sport for Valentine’s Day this year. I even wore pink.



(Okay, I wear pink a lot anyway. But I wore it specifically knowing that it was a holiday where pink & red were the colors of the day.)


Of the 27 years I have been around for V-Day, 26 of those have been spent without a significant other. My senior year of high school I was dating (“dating”) a guy over the dreaded Day of Love and I think I got a plush teddy bear or something. I don’t remember. It was almost ten years ago. My point is, I’ve grown accustomed to flying solo and I’ve gone through all of the stages of grief – denial (“this doesn’t bother me, it’s not a real holiday anyway”), anger/bitterness (self-explanatory and probably the phase I stayed in the longest), bargaining (“I’ll stop condemning this day if I can have a valentine too!”), depression (“fuck this, nobody will ever love me”) and finally, acceptance. I still greatly enjoy snarky memes and jokes that float around the Internet, but I was completely fine with it this year. Let people have their romance and fancy dinners and bonus gift-giving holiday. I would curl up with a bottle of wine and watch a movie with my cat. I was ALL GOOD.



Or so I thought.



I had my brilliant mixtape idea (hey, have you suggested a song yet? GO DO IT) and I shared it with the Regulars in our Turntable.fm room and as people are wont to do on such a holiday, we started playing a string of love songs. Love songs, crush songs, breakup songs, heartbreak songs, angry anti-love songs. Anything that moved us. It was largely songs of heart-wrenching sadness. It was like playing a game of emotional chicken. I stared down each song in defiance, daring it to affect me. Song after song and finally, finally, around 4:00, I managed to break myself. I played REM’s “At My Most Beautiful” – then politely excused myself from the DJ table, took off my headphones, pushed my chair away from my desk, locked myself into the downstairs bathroom, and cried as quietly as I could for about ten minutes.



Then I came back and someone played Dashboard Confessional and I was all, OH GOD WHYYYYY.




You know the one. HERE LET ME SHOW YOU.

As for now I'm gonna hear the saddest songs
And sit alone and wonder
How you're making out
But as for me, I wish that I was anywhere with anyone
Making out.

I'm missing your laugh

How did it break?
And when did your eyes begin to look fake?
I hope you're as happy as you're pretending.

I'm cuddling close to blankets and sheets

I am alone, in my defeat
I wish I knew you were safely at home



Cause that's totally the song you want to hear when you're alone and can't help but be reminded of your last relationship/fling/whatever it was. Maybe I DO miss their laugh! I wonder who they're with - are they at home? Maybe they're home pining over me. Or maybe they are with some other girl that's a hundred and fifty times better than me. I guess I'll sit at home with sad songs and wonder.

Maybe it’s that I’m more acutely aware of my loneliness these days, in general, than anything to do with any past whatevers. I'm better off without them all, or I'd still be with them. Right?

Maybe it’s that I’m getting more emotional and sappy in my old age (guys, I am turning into such a GIRL. I never used to cry at anything. I’m noticing it more with movies. Those sad scenes that are just baiting you, begging you to expel some saline from your eye-holes… yeah, they get me every time. FUCK YOU, MOVIE PEOPLE.) At any rate, I was feeling particularly vulnerable anyway, and we all know how much music amplifies everything. 

Whatever the case. I finally cracked. YOU WIN, VALENTINE'S DAY. 

On the bright side, I'm feeling considerably better today and I'm shifting my focus elsewhere to this really nice dude who has been sending me messages and that I think I may actually be meeting this weekend. (Now that I've actually SAID it, I will have jinxed the whole thing.) On paper, it seems perfect. He's my age, graduated the same year from the same college I did, has a similar sense of humor and a similar tendency toward the verbose, and was legitimately excited to hear back from me. Keep your fingers crossed, Internet. I'm cautiously optimistic about this.

In conclusion: Valentine's Day is an evil, evil holiday created to break the spirits of the single people of the world, as if the other 364 days weren't bad enough. 

Also, the candy should be on sale now. Tomorrow is payday. You do the math.

4 comments:

Ashley, the Accidental Olympian said...

At least no matter how sad it can be on V-day you always know there's plenty of cheap candy right around the corner. And who doesn't love candy? Right?

Many hugs friendy.

Ginny said...

Oh God dashboard will make me emo on a normal day!

I like to do stuff for myself on valentines day like drink my favorite drink!

Megs said...

So...I totally forgot it was V-Day until I tried to go get Mexican food. And then I remembered. I am totally neutral on V-Day at this point, but I remember when I hated it and wore black and went to a horror movie on purpose.

Also- dude! You totally called me wise! That never happens to me! I am going to be unbearable from now. I wonder if I can make everyone call me "Swami" or "Master" or "Oh Thou Most Beautiful and Wise of All Women"?

terra said...

DUDE. Dashboard makes me cry like no other. Doesn't matter what state of mind I'm in, that shit will make me bawl like a baby.