As you may recall from last year, I don't have the happiest Valentine's Day stories. This year was unfortunately more of the same.
Before my trip to see THE WIZARD, he booked a flight to visit me on Valentine's Day. We talked about honoring the plans, even though we had technically ended our relationship. What was wrong with spending a weekend together?
Of course, there is a lot wrong with this scenario, so we agreed to keep our distance. But his flight was booked, so he ended up in my city for the weekend, silently taunting me from a friend's place the next neighborhood over.
On V-day, I made plans to attend an infamous Make Out Party here in town with a friend. I put on a great outfit and danced with my friends, temporarily forgetting about the WIZARD. I even let SAM [the smarmy guy in a famous band I went out with last year] kiss me on the mouth for a second. I thought it just might turn into a decent V-Day.
The next day, I woke up feeling disgusting, from too much whiskey and a little bit of regret. I wanted to see the WIZARD. And apparently he wanted to see me. He asked me to meet him at the ice cream shop.
Amidst fluorescent lighting and squealing kids, many tears were shed. We unloaded all the feelings - anger, remorse, and some unrealistic ideas about our future... There was discussion of being in a very open relationship: staying in touch, and being together when we happened to be in the same city, and seeing if that led to something more serious. But it all seemed incredibly stupid upon some thought.
As we finished our banana split, I suddenly saw him as someone I wasn't falling in love with - he was a mess and his life didn't make sense with mine. He grinned at me, hiding his fucked up teeth the way he did when we first met. Poof. It was over. We said goodbye in the snowstorm:
HIM: Dude, I totally love you.
ME: I know.
