But Once a Year

Valentine's Day is 'round the corner. I loathe this holiday more than Crocs footwear. Take me out for an overpriced meal of pint-sized proportions, buy me roses or better yet, extravagant jewelry, and cater to me, pamper me, and empty your wallet at my expense. Because you were told to. Not because you necessarily wanted to.

Romantic gestures nauseate me. Is romance even real? Chocolate and teddy bears are for suckers. I don't seek gifts of monetary value for validation.

All I need is someone to be there for me, support me, let me know their thinking about me. Daily. Not once a year. An affectionate stroke of the hair or kiss on the shoulder surely require more thought than that $3.49 Hallmark card written by some sap who sits around watching Lifetime television. How personal is that?