Valentine's Day.

Balloons. Flowers. Cleverly shaped bite size candies, some encrypted with cutesy, chat-speak messages. Sappy cards and notebook paper folded into squares and public displays of affection. Wonderful for people with a significant other, someone to hold, hug, kiss, fuck. It's just great for them. It's also great for the (overly) cheery optimists (redundant?) with one-hundred-plus close friends. It's fucking great for those people. Those pretty little generic girls who spend all night baking and what not to dazzle everyone with their pink-and-red frosted artery clogging delights. Fucking awesome for them. And let's not forget the greeting card companies. Hallmark holidays such as these bring in huge revenue. So while everyone is out exchanging tokens of love and appreciation, they're paying the bills of the writers of the greeting cards who probably don't even believe a word they've written and sold. This "holiday" is great for all the aforementioned people.

However, for me, it's just another day where I'm reminded of just how single (i.e., lonely) I am.

Sure, alright, yeah. I have a few friends who I can commiserate with. I have the select few who are just as lonely as I am, so I guess we're alone together. And we poke fun at all the happy couples, chuckling snidely at the cheesy balloons and oversized teddy bears and the people that are the owners of such. We giggle pretentiously and pretend we're so much higher than them because we're "independent" (i.e., lonely) and don't need a significant other to make us happy, although today, just a little note from a secret admirer would make our days a little bit better.

Not like we'd ever admit that or anything.

I spend all day in a haze, rolling my eyes at the couples kissing (making out, groping, giving everyone around them a sexual education lesson... you get the point) in the hallway after exchanging gifts, and being just a little bit miserable as I watch the flowers and gifts pile up for everyone around me, not receiving a single gift. No, I'm not bitter. Not at all. Not even a little bit.

Okay, maybe just a smidgen.

I try, I really do, to feign joy for others around me as they grip the hand of their boyfriend or girlfriend like they need that person's hand in order to breathe properly. And I respect that. I mean, I guess if you're into the whole relationshippy, co-dependent thing, then that's fine. That's all well and good for that person. And I guess it makes sense in a way. I mean, some people believe in that whole everyone-was-put-on-this-earth-to-find-the-person-that-completes-them kind of thing. That's fine, and I guess it's like religion (or anything else for that matter); if you believe in it and it helps you sleep at night, then good. At least you have something to give you a full night's rest.

But c'mon... not even one measly little thorn-less rose? Not even a pink spray-painted carnation? Not even one?

Finally, after hours and hours of watching everyone smile at the person they love (or at least think they love), last period arrives. And believe me, it's very welcome. I have the last class with my friend Mikey, and to my knowledge, he doesn't have a valentine either. At least we can commiserate together; I mean, knowing Mikey, he's probably very upbeat and won't want to join me in wallowing in self-depreciation. He will listen to me gripe, however, and I guess that's all I can ask for from a friend on a shitty day such as this.

I go to take my seat on the rickety bleachers, next to my skinny, glasses-clad buddy. He smiles meekly at me and I half-smirk at him.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Frank!" Mikey exclaims, a little too excited for my taste.

"You too, Mikey." I say, my voice monotonous and unaffected. He frowns at me a little bit, the sparkle in his eyes fading slightly. I try to bring his spirits back up with a fake smile, but he doesn't buy it. He doesn't even appreciate the energy and effort I put into the aforementioned fake smile! What a prick.

"You seem upset, dude. Is something bothering you?" I glance at Mikey and sigh, and he takes that as a sufficient answer for now. He's never one to pry, a quality that goes without compliment but is silently (and greatly) appreciated by me.

We sit in silence and look at all the happy couples, and I sigh again. Mikey senses my disdain and sighs in response to my sigh. I chuckle slightly, not only at his response, but at the fact that I'm so visibly bummed out by a holiday that I constantly poke fun at.

"Today is stupid." Mikey states, matter-of-factly, in an attempt to raise my spirits. Even my upbeat friend is trying to commiserate with me in order to make me feel better. Now that's friendship.

"Yeah, it really is." I chuckle again, and he chuckles in response. We both continue to watch the happy couples express their love for each other through hugs and kisses and unnecessary gropes.

"So..." he begins, attempting to make conversation and break the awkward silence in one fell swoop, "are you going to the dance tonight?" I turn to face him, giving him a very odd look. He smiles awkwardly at me, his eyes apologizing for asking such a question. I just burst out laughing, and he laughs with me. We laugh for a good five minutes at the thought of me, at a dance, at a school full of people who barely notice that I'm there, and how incredibly uneasy I would be if I was surrounded by the well-known socialites that attend those dances.

We sit in silence and just people watch for the remainder of the (poor excuse of a) gym class, waiting impatiently for the bell to ring. Mikey and I are the last ones out of the gym, and we begin to walk home together in silence. I try to avoid snow and ice and Mikey laughs at my attempts to do so, because the snow and the ice are covering the sidewalks. In my defense, I like my shoes and didn't want to chance ruining them with the products of the shitty weather.

We approached my house first, and we stood awkwardly outside for a bit. It was never like this; we almost always had something interesting (well, at least for us) to talk about, and the conversation usually wasn't over by the time we reached my house. But then again, not every day was Valentine's Day, and I wasn't as uncharacteristically down in the dumps as today made me.

"So... I'll see you Monday then?" Mikey says, obviously uncomfortable by my unusual silence.

"Yeah, yeah." I feign another smile and Mikey chuckles, rolling his eyes. I smile for real this time. At least he knows how to handle me, no matter what mood I'm in.

"Well... bye." I say, turning around to face my house.

"Frank! Wait!" Mikey calls after me, and then runs up to me. He pulls a tiny folded square of notebook paper out of his back pocket. The puzzled look I have on my face must have made him feel awkward. He turned as red as the frosting on the cupcakes the cheerleaders made for their football playing boyfriends.

"Thanks..." I say, not too sure what to say. He smiles frantically, and then takes off down the street, walking faster than necessary.

I enter my house, still quite confused, throwing my backpack on the kitchen table. I walk up to my room, and unfold the piece of blue-and-pink lined paper that my friend had given me in such a frenzy.

Frank -

I know you don't have a valentine or anything, but since today is kind of just a day to show people how much you appreciate them, I thought I'd let you know that I really appreciate you being my best friend. I don't wanna get all sappy and cheesy and whatever, but it does mean a lot to me to have someone to listen and talk to and share weird jokes with and stuff. It's kind of strange for me, because I've never really had that before, but it's a nice kind of strange. So thanks.

And by the way, happy Valentine's day.

- Mikey

Maybe Valentine's Day isn't so bad after all.