Here's an admission. With all God gave me, I dread Valentine's Day.
There are many reasons for this. A new reason this year is because my best single friend is dating. If history serves to inform the present, I'll get a picture on my phone - a picture of whatever gift she gets.
I am already practicing my reaction so it seems spontaneous. I've settled on texting the word "Awesome!"
This sounds like sour grapes. The heart of the matter is more complex.
I don't want expensive gifts. Please don't tell people how much you spent on the purse you bought me that costs more than a washing machine. (Let me qualify that statement: if you're shopping for me a wedding ring, ignore what I just said. Thanks). What I covet is not the loot, but the companionship.
One of my past relationships told me that I was stronger than him. The reason? I was better at being Alone. I'm not sure how I responded at the time. I always measured my words with him lest he realize too soon how much I was in love with him. To this day though, I am stunned by his utter lack of insight.
Being Alone longer does not make you better at it.
Regardless of what people may say, few people choose to be alone. True, I have chosen to pass on bad relationships and that is its own kind of choosing. There are tradeoffs. Recently someone asked if I were lonely, and while the answer to that is sometimes yes, I realize that what I'm pining for is a bit pie in the sky: where both parties are happy and respectful of each other and capable of whatever it takes to stay that way. Who has that? Few people have that. I have been surrounded lately by people who actively don't have it, and they have much more in misery than I have in solitude.
The rub is this. I would still be better with someone than alone. Who says that to someone they love anyway? There are still days when I replay that conversation in my mind and I want to scream.
Days like today, I guess. And days like Valentine's Day.
I know. I'm venting. I will be much better Tuesday. Thanks for listening.

--Laura