Sat, Feb. 15
... Like a dream to me
How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days was really cute.
Chicago was great. Dinner with
Laurel was wonderful... and we got seated next to a big table of people, not next to all the tables of mushy couples.
I'm not feeling sorry for myself; I wasn't feeling sorry for myself last night. I had a great time, first hanging out with Chelsea and Janel; then with Laurel. Yeah, the whole day was a "singleness reminder," but that's just because it's Valentine's Day, and it's far too focused on commercialized love. It's not because of any vendetta against me by any particular person. No one's out to remind me that I'm single, or to spend the whole day rubbing it in my face. That would be someone pathetically without a life.
There's nothing wrong with going out with my girlfriends and having a great date evening on our own, without guys. That's important. It's important at this stage in the game to remind us that we don't need them to be worth something, and it's important when we do have relationships to remind us that we--and our girl friends--are worth something apart from the men in our lives. It's just sad when we make the time to do it as a rebuttal to (or a defense mechanism against) the societal standard of romance, instead of just doing it because we love our friendship.
Yes, it made me sad. There are a lot of memories associated with Valentine's Day over the years, and I felt somewhat of a sense of loss over some of them. Not all of them, but some of them. I wondered how things could have been different. I'm a wonderer in many ways, and days like this just bring it out even more.
But I've been writing this entry for an hour, and I need to get ready for work. I made it through another Valentine's Day. Today is February 15, and I don't have to think about it for another year.
One year ago today: Sometimes, I hate talking. It seems so pointless some days; seems like it does no good, like all it does is go over the same ground over and over and over again. The same things that have been hashed out before, complained about, rejoiced over, talked about before, all being said yet again. But does it really make a difference? Not really. Not usually. Just words.
infinite || abyss
posted at 11:07 a.m.
