Imagine reliving your last relationship while minding your damn business. Thanks,Facebook, for reminding me that last year this time (and last Valentine's day by the way) that I was in a relationship -- and for showing me a lovey-dovey post that makes my drunk texts look like Shakespearean masterpieces -- with a married man. This time last year on Facebook I wrote how he was cool with me hanging out in lounge spots with the girls, or at the bar by myself. I guess it made it easier for him to tend to his wife.
Last year I bought an adorable and big-ass box of assorted candies from 1-800-flowers, because he loves junk food. But the box cost me about $70 so it was anything but junk. I had it sent to his job -- never did that before. He never called to say thank you so I called him to say hi and to see if the gift made it to him on time. He said it did, but that he didn't have time to call me just yet. I was like "cool. Could you at least take a pic of it so I can see?"
Meanwhile, it is Valentine's morning. No plans were made for the day so far.
He sent a pic of him holding the gift; dude looked rather awkward. I guess his co-workers either assumed it was from the wife or they talked about his cheating ass behind his back. You're damn right I had 800-flowers sign "Love, Ty" on the card.
Later that day, he rushed to my house (my co-worker at the rental office saw the whole action-movie-like scene from her window, nosy ass!), dropped off a bag and took off like he had a wife at home waiting (insert sarcastic chuckle here). Inside the gift bag was a cheap-ass miniature stuffed animal, one plastic rose on a plastic stem, and a greeting card, where he signed his name but wrote nothing more.
Now I am not high-maintenance, almost to a fault. But anyone with half of a brain could tell he threw that Valentine's piece of shit together to appease me. It sorta worked when he texted that he would be back later to take me out to dinner. Of course, something came up -- as it always did -- and I spent the remainder of the February 14, 2017, alone.
I wish it didn't take three more months for me to find out he was married. I used to clown women who could be so stupid and blind to the signs. Because I see the signs now, shining bright like a moissanite dinner ring -- a great fake mess.
So now this vivid flashback continues to take over my morning (today is the day before Valentine's Day 2018). And a friend is waiting for me to decide if I wanna do the proverbial stag hangout tomorrow. Additionally, I refuse to struggle date at a Starbucks with some bumass just because he likes the size of my lips. Therefore, I pray that there is more to "good TV" outside of the Olympic coverage. Because home is where my heart will be, tomorrow and the days to come.
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