Aw Shit, it's Valentine's Day

Aw shit, it’s St. Valentine’s Day

time again. 

I remember there was a period

when all I seemed to  write about

was how I longed for love with overwrought

sentimentality, dripping with the

flowery language of “romance”.

Now, all I can think is,

“Aw Shit, it’s Valentine’s Day…”

I don’t hate romance, or love poetry.

I don’t begrudge anyone their romantic

happiness.

I’m a big fan of love and romance,

but I’m getting more used to the idea that

I’ll be one of those that just goes without.

Sure, I’m loved in platonic and family ways,

I love others in the same vein. We don’t

send Valentine’s to each other or make

romantic showings.  It’s a Hallmark holiday

without anything real for those relationships.

There’s no need for weeping sentiment

or rosy worded greeting cards covered in

silver glitter around felt hearts. That’s something

couples do, or married folks, or maybe schoolboys

send to their crushes.

I’ll watch TV at home on Valentine’s Day,

I’ll do my normal things.  Normal stuff like pining for

love with that special woman that sparks

my heart into action, eat a microwave dinner,

look out the window, go to bed.

So Aw Shit…,

shit, shit, shit.

Another Valentine’s Day without

that special wink, nod, smile, hand holding,

hair flip, kiss, or otherwise intimate gyration.

Shit.