Essays, Etc.

Valentine's Day, Etc.

I have a female friend named Janet who has a boyfriend in Chicago, which is many states away from where I live. They met on the internet.

She keeps telling me how excited she is for Valentine’s Day, and keeps asking me what I think he’ll do for her. Frankly, I don’t really care; I have bigger problems to worry about, like exactly how long it took me to get out of the car this morning, and if it pissed off the people behind us, and if I should’ve apologized, and why I didn’t, and why I’m such an asshole for not apologizing to the people that I may or may not have held up for five extra seconds.

At this point she has been waiting for an answer for around three minutes, as I stare off into space and increase my heart rate from anxiety.

“What do you think he’ll do?”

I snap out of it.

“What?”

“Will. What do you think he’ll do for Valentine’s Day?”

I think about being nice, and then I realize that she doesn’t give a damn about my problems, and never has. All she cares about is having sex with a guy in Chicago, or at least getting close.

I suppose that’s more interesting than talking about how scared you were the other day for having to take the food from the drive-through window because your mother pulled up on the wrong side, but still. Give and take.

“I don’t know. Maybe he’ll send you a heart. Say you’re less than three. That’s romantic!”

She didn’t laugh.

“I mean, we’ve been dating for fo-”

“You’ve been texting for four months. Big difference.”

“Not really. I mean, the other day he-”

It’s about here that I just run out of fucks entirely. I just stare off into space and start worrying again, this time about whether or not the guy across from me is staring at me, and if he is, why.

I mean, I don’t have anything against online relationships. If that makes you both happy, go for it. I am, however, beginning to see flaws in the whole operation, at least in my friend’s case.

You see, just because she has Will up in Chicago doesn’t mean she’s stopped pining after guys. She still does it, almost religiously at this point. All day I get texts:

“Isn’t this guy cute?” (Picture attached).

“This really cute guy glanced at me today for a few seconds. What do you think? Does he like me?”

It gets bullshitty very, very quickly.

And every time she mentions what he’s going to do for Valentine’s Day, I can’t help but remember what happened to me on Valentine’s Day in the fourth grade:

I had a small, innocent crush on a guy in my class and, being both insanely shy and insanely stupid, I made him a Valentine, but had my friend deliver it for me. I just stared at my desk and reconsidered every decision I had ever made up to that point as she skipped happily over to him and shoved it in his face.

I looked up and saw him walk over with the valentine in his hand. He didn’t look happy or full of love.

He smacked it on the table, front-side downwards. You couldn’t even see the lovely glitter job I did on the thing. Dick.

I looked at the table and tried not to maintain eye contact.

“Did you send this?”

I nodded, and he sighed.

“I feel sorry for you.”

Then he walked away.

I feel like Will does that every time my friend sends a text.

Over in Chicago, he’s sitting with his girlfriend right now, and his phone goes off and Janet sent him a text that said she loved him, and he looks over at his real girlfriend, the one he can touch, kiss, hold, and he feels a pang of guilt, and feels bad for Janet. He types out a quick text before going back to loving his real girlfriend:

“I love you too!”