Let’s face it: Valentine’s Day is overrated. For all those who have been dumped, crushed, and heartbroken or are just miserable in this season of over-affectionate romance, take heart! You’re not alone. This post is part of Converge Magazine’s cynical celebration of heartbreak.
I once spent a Valentine’s Day babysitting a precocious little girl and her younger brother, who threw a soccer ball in my face. But that was not my worst Valentine’s Day. The incredible awkwardness of the moments I spent trying to straighten my glasses and suppress some choice words against the poor little guy’s bad aim were a step up from the previous February 14th.
My oh-so cliché high school boyfriend, a burly football player with a beautiful car, dumped me just days before this romantic holiday. And let it be known that when I half-heartedly unwrapped a chocolate to find the words, “Be your own Valentine!” written on the wrapper, I was not impressed. This break up cancelled what I had been certain was going to be my first chance to experience Valentine’s Day with an actual valentine. But no, instead I had to spend the evening with my new ex singing romantic songs.
We were both in the choir, which was putting on an evening of ballads and desserts as a fundraiser. I learned an all new meaning to the phrase “Sing your heart out” when I mumbled out Besame Mucho with a plastic smile on my face and my ex carrying the tenor section right behind me.
I supremely regretted volunteering to read a romantic poem I wrote, because I could feel his eyes watching me as I fought to keep my voice as syrupy as the words. Not even the audience was a comfort that evening, because, as cruel fate would have it, the table that I was assigned to serve was his entire extended family.
Having no plans on Valentine’s could be better than having a date with a torture chamber.
Photo (Flickr CC) courtesy of JMV.
