Why I Hate Valentine's Day

My hatred of Valentine's Day started somewhere around 9th grade. I guess that's the time we stopped having afternoon holiday parties where sending meaningless Mickey Mouse/Barbie/Looney Toons valentines ended and the showmanship began. Parents sent their daughters bouquets at school creating such a disruption that the library had to be closed to create a holding room for the gifts. Why not just give that special some one a gift in private? Valentine's Day is about outdoing everyone else in an attempt to "prove" that you love your significant other (of perhaps only a few days) more than everyone else loves their special some one.

Many blamed my hatred on the holiday on the fact that I was eternally single (until I met Mr. H). Maybe I was a tad jealous of the flowers, date nights, and loser boyfriends simply because I didn't have them, but more than that I was nauseated. Why on earth do we exchange the same gifts that everyone exchanges on that day? Who decided that a dozen red roses, a Whitman's sampler, and a tiny white teddy bear proclaiming "I wuv you" was the key to a lady's heart?

Four years ago, Mr. H and I had been dating about 3 weeks when Valentine's Day rolled around. In an earlier group conversation, I mentioned my hatred of the holiday, defended my reasoning, and actually had a few people admit that they felt the same way. So on our first Valentine's Day together sometime between "classes" and studying, we walked to the corner Tip Top store to buy Scrumpy. Mr. H said, "I know you don't like Valentine's Day, but 'Happy Valentine's Day' anyway." And our Feb. 14s have been about the same ever since. No gifts. No fancy dinners out. Just another day together to enjoy our love for one another as every day should be.

Since someecards says it best, I give you the sentiments that I can't fully express on my own.