Yesterday was a huge couples day. You know, the one with the chocolate, with the roses, and an almost-law of giving jewelry?

I was single for the first time since I was nineteen years old this year. And I fucking LOVED IT. No card buying, no pretending to like the half-wilted ugly bunch of flowers he picked up at the last second, or faking my way through sex that he believed to be romantic because he *asked* me before shoving his pitiful little dick in my body, no matter my answer.

I only got pissed off once, when an older woman apologized to me for the fact I was single this year. She said it like someone had died, and she was lamenting their passing with me over the coffin.

I just looked at her like the idiot she was; I mean, really? You want to apologize to the chubby, mildly attractive girl because she's single and HAPPY ABOUT IT? When you yourself are married to someone who hasn't been on a first name basis with soap and water in at least a month, and no one likes you? At least people don't avoid me when I walk into a room.

Also, I got to come home, drink a Captain and Coke, and watch whatever the fuck I wanted on television.