The Anti-Valentine

I feel like a very sad and pathetic person tonight as I ponder the saddest day of my year - Valentine's Day. I tell myself it's a stupid ritual perpetuated by idiotic individuals who (for some reason) need a special day every year to adore their loved one - as if owning the other 364 days of the year isn't enough. That's what sucks about Valentine's Day. It's a testimony to the fact that our world belongs to the married people, the couples, the non-singles. Being single is considered a curse, something to avoid at all costs. I tell myself that it doesn't matter, but it does really. It matters that happy chick flicks annoy me and romantic songs make me cry. It matters that even if I do get my dream job, I know I won't be completely happy. It matters that couples form their own little clubs that exclude the single people, not thinking for a second how much that exclusion aches. It matters that every tv show and movie perpetuates this stupid concept that to be alone is to be incomplete. Imperfect. Undesirable. It aches that I may never belong to those clubs, and that those dreams and romantic songs may never belong to me. But what can I do? Keep singing the anti-valentine song. Smile and hold my head high and ignore the ache. Even when it keeps me awake at night. And maybe one day it won't matter, one day the smile won't feel forced and the angry voice will fade. And then maybe one day there will be no more ache.