Oh hey Valentine's Day, you snuck up on my there...I didn't see you coming for me. I was busy feeling sorry for myself after being alone for Christmas. I was spending all my free time looking at my instagram feed of photos of me kissing my wine glass, the wall and the air on New Years Eve. Le sigh.
I have always wondered why the universe decided to place three holidays so close together. I wondered this the most when I was single. For those of you who know me, you have followed my recovery from a bad case of a broken-heart over on my blog. For those of you who have no idea who I am, I will give you a quick re-cap. I fell in love three times, got dumped three times, a sat alone for three years crying, then I wrote a book about it called Rockettes, Rockstars and Rockbottom. Shortly after that, I became the poster child for everything not to do after a break-up.
After I got all of that heartbreak out of my system, a very magical thing happened. I met “the one." There he was, all 6" 5' of him, standing in front of me, willing to love me till the end of the Earth. This Christmas we got engaged, and on New Years Eve we smooched under the moon in Thailand. Oh crap, I am not helping, am I? This was supposed to be a blog about how to deal with being alone on Valentine's Day. You hate me already.
I guess my point is that, sure, being alone lands at the same level of suckery as say a Brazilian bikini wax and weighing yourself, but it isn't permanent. This too shall pass. If you are cool enough to end up on this blog, then I have a good feeling that you are cool enough to land a major babe, forever lover.
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