This
used to be my favorite holiday, but its novelty has expired. The time of making
valentines is over. The days have passed, only to be replaced with drunken
declarations explaining the inevitable solitude of what will be my twilight
years.
I’m
tired of the nights; the bar scene is stale and boring. And all the cutest
boys, for their own respective reasons, are unappealing. Indeed, I vie for the
attention from boys who aren’t as smart or fun as I am, who don’t get me or make
me laugh, while in addition to never making me happy make me miserable. These
laws of property surround me and I fall victim. But I am ever so eager for
gravity to take its course and for one of them to fall for me.