Roses are red...etc.

When I was in high school, I really wanted to be one of those punk, I just don't give a damn type of girls. I tried. Black clothes, baggy jeans, approximately ten jillion stupid rubber bracelets. It worked a little; I've always been kind of a smart-ass, I liked (gulp) Godsmack, and it was high school, so it's not like I was ever going to be totally happy. I had a pair of black boots that I freaking loved; my mom called them my shitkicker boots. I still have them in my closet at my parents house, because even when the sole split I just covered it with duct tape and kept wearing them.

The first time the sole split, I was walking home with my boyfriend at the time, and it was raining. My foot started to get wet, so he gave me a piggyback ride the last few blocks home. It was the romantic highlight of my life up to that point, which I think shows just how romantic my life was. He was a decent guy who thought he looked like Scott Stapp. (He didn't)* But we were not destined to be. He was actually destined to be with Claudia, my BFF from elementary school. Scott and Claudia met at my 16th birthday party. Scott and I were still dating at that point, but we broke up in February and a few weeks later, he asked out Claudia. They've been together ever since** Eight years people. That's fucking crazy. I don't talk to either of them (not a spiteful way, we just fell out of touch) but it's nice knowing that I'm some part of their story.

Oh, this is making me sound like a romantic, isn't it? Let's backtrack to punky shitkicking me. Scott Stapp and I broke up probably a few days before Valentine's Day. And my friends asked me, why don't you wait until after Valentine's Day? I guess they thought I wanted they typical Valentine's Day romance...dinner, candy blah blah blah. But it honestly didn't even cross my mind that I was dumping my boyfriend a few days before Valentine's Day. Because I really did. not. care. about that holiday. Or Scott, at that point. Sorry buddy.

I know, everyone says they don't care about Valentine's Day. It's like a rite of passage, to hate the commercialism of the holiday. It's probably the one holiday it's cool to hate. No one really likes it, do that?

Well, Boyfriend does. Now, I'm not complaining that I have a super nice boyfriend who likes to buy me presents and go out to dinner for romantic holidays. But...I am. Look, I like chocolate and wine and food. Who doesn't? It just seems so unnecessary. It's forced. I HAVE to buy him a card and I HAVE to be all lovey dovey and we HAVE to go out to dinner. I like buying things impulsively, or to celebrate a birthday, or special occasion. One night, I was being super crabby, so the next day I brought home a bottle of wine called BITCH as an apology. When I give a photo as a present, I always write the occasion and date on the back, so even if he doesn't see it for years, it's always there. My favorite nights are the ones where we're out out for hours, for no real reason, and I always end up learning something new about him. I don't need any candy hearts for that mushy shit.

Ugh, crap. Is this going to turn into one of those things where I try to be all snarky, but then end up learning the DEEP MEANING behind things? Why I should love Valentine's Day, and why it's important? Because that really wasn't the point.

I am a BAMF with no use for this holiday, mmkay?
(But maybe I'm looking forward to the chocolate)

*Actually, he kind of does!
**Yes, I doublechecked on Facebook to confirm this. What of it?