Happy fucking Valentine’s Day

The day has been spent in a cloud of woe. Woe is the wrong word, actually. It’s a bit passive. I have spent the day in a fit of murderous rage. All those hearts. All that red. Seriously.

Obviously nothing from The Pirate. Obviously. Though it’s all a bit playground, as I didn’t send him anything, so quite why I’ve taken umbrage over the fact that I haven’t been overwhelmed with all those hearts and all that red, I don’t know.

I’m a stuck record, but WHY COULDN’T HE LOVE ME?

I know. He’s incapable. A more salient question would be, why can’t I let him go?

There has been contact. Of course there’s been contact. We exchange emails. It’s not helping. Especially when none of those emails have been exchanged today. Fucking Valentine’s Day. It’s hateful.

There is no point to this post, so I will stop.

 

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16 Comments on “Happy fucking Valentine’s Day”

  1. I just read a funny “tired of stupid valantines” comic — it said “No woman will ever be truly satisfied on Valentines Day because no man will ever have a chocolate penis that ejaculates money.” Is Bah-Humbug just for Christmas Scrouges???

  2. Proly nothing to do with us. Damn timing is everything.

  3. I can totally empathize we might be in a similar place (relationship frustration-wise). But I don’t have anger just a deep longing. I still love and respect her. I’m confident I’d move on if I found someone suitable but my criteria (which she fit) are pretty specific. I sent her a handmade Valentine… haven’t done something like that since, what, second grade? It took me about an hour and a half to put together. Hang in there.

  4. unchainedxxx says:

    Valentine’s Day is a way to make me “make love” instead of all out fucking my loved one. Other than that, it’s simply a corporate Hallmark marketing day. 🙂

  5. I had written almost the exact same thing (minus the pirate, plus the boytoy) and then I got laid this morning before I hit “publish” so it seemed a bit cruel to go ahead and put it out there when he had just put out. But, even having had a glorious morning, I’m still with you: fuck red, fuck hearts, and roses stink.

  6. and I thought I was the ant-valentine. nice to know I am in good company…

    and may some glorious (sexually liberal, emotionally responsible, financially stable) fully grown man who has yet to learn land on your doorstep with whiskey, a book of sonnets and a packet of salt & vinegar crisps. and may he smell nice too *swoooosh* of African fairy not-mother wand xxx


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