Valentine's Day... what's that?

Valentine's Day. It comes and goes, year after year. And every year, this girl is without a valentine. Every year--no buts about it.

It seems like, as a single twenty-something, the constant reminders of love on Valentine's day can either make you or break you. You embrace the holiday, shelling out affection for your family and friends, or you completely shut it out, and close yourself off to the entire world for a day--too afraid of the possibility of a little heartache. There's also the few that rub their independence in the faces of others, saying that they're single, and that's the way they want it to stay--because who even wants the responsibility of having to celebrate on Valentine's Day?

All I know is, I don't want to be that person. You know who I'm talking about...

I don't want to be the person who makes excuses for their situation, blaming others or themselves for not being able to find love.

I don't want to grow bitter from feeling a few pangs of loneliness.

I don't want to resent the people around me for happiness they have found with their boyfriends, girlfriends, wives, or husbands.

I don't want to be the person who groans with envy after seeing a co-worker receive a bouquet of flowers and oodles of candy from a secret admirer.

I don't want to be that person because, let's face it, nobody likes a bitter, stank-face female who can't find her happiness without a man by her side. I wouldn't even like myself if I lived or thought that way. 

I just want to be me. I choose to love everyone, I choose to be happy with the blessings I enjoy right now in my life. (Because, let's face it--my life is pretty dang awesome.) I will not live in denial, saying that a "valentine" is not something I desire, but I will live with hope, that maybe next year will be the year. 

Maybe.

*The most romantic gesture I've gotten on Valentine's Day was when I worked at the YMCA. There was an old man, probably in his 80's who came in every day. His name was Richard and he was a sweetheart. One year, on February 14th, he brought me some roses. He handed them to me unceremoniously and said with a wink, "Here you go. Happy Valentine's Day. Don't tell my wife."