Valentine’s Day.

At my age, I probably shouldn't worry about romance.

And I don't.

I am not one of those people who hate Valentine's Day just because they are single and resentful. I don't care about having a boyfriend.

Still, it’s degrading not having anyone to look forward to to show me appreciation for, well, anything.

Actually, last year, I got elbowed in the nose by a random guy. Looking back, it was pretty funny. Even if I burst into tears the second I got into my mother's car, my nose was bleeding. I appreciate that the guy blamed it on their friend instead of apologizing.

Wow, love at first nose smash. Take out your paper and pens because I promise that this one is going to become the romance novel of a lifetime.

Not really.

Anyway, I still think that's much better than having your partner break up with you or something. That's just wrong.

I remember when school ended and there was this long line of students waiting outside the office to pick up their Valentine’s gifts that they had dropped off there before class. There’d be girls walking out with three bags of gifts each, then a guy with a teddy bear and a small bouquet of paper flowers.

Meanwhile, I had Fun-Dip.

I know I should be grateful for everything I receive, it's the thought that counts. But just watching everyone around me passing their gifts around so eagerly like it was a second Christmas, it feels like I'm not someone not deserving of those things.

Then I'd go home, and sure maybe my mother would get me a small snack. This year, she got me kettle corn.

Which was more important than telling her she loved me because she didn't say those words a single time that day. Not that she's said that in months, I had to ask her yesterday if she did to get her to say yes. She did love me.

“Yes. Why,” was what she said.

Thanks for the confirmation, I guess.