rotten bastard

ok. i've been sick all week. if you know me, you know what that means. rotten bastard is back. the fever i had tuesday night led me to believe that either it was going to be over soon because i am an expert fever breaker or because i was about to die. the former happened, but i am dealing with the lingering effects of congestion and a cough. i hate everyone when i am sick. i hate you if you're well because i am jealous. i hate you if you're sick like me because i don't give a shit. if you're happy and in a good mood, i really hate you because i usually am, but the invading sickness has rendered me physically incapable of being happy and casting a harsh light on my crusade of positivity. revealed as a charlatan by a microscopic chain of protein.

but tomorrow is a new day. and then monday is a holiday. ambivalence sets in. eyes glaze over for the faithful readers who know all too well what monday means. due to the fact that i've spent most of my time in bed this week, i've had some time to think. i came up with the fact that only twice in 30 years have i been with someone on St. Valentine's famous day. my perseverant undesirability coupled with (fortuitous?) timing conspired to render me single on this "special" day for the rest of my life. i celebrated less than ten percent of the time. actually, less even than i should have since one of the two years i was dating someone she was overseas the first couple of weeks in february. so one time in my life i was dating someone when it happened to be v-day and we actually celebrated.

it was high school. ha ha ha. i think i got her a bouquet of flowers and a Dr. Seuss book. She gave me a box of Crayola Crayons and some vigorous heavy petting. the end.

i'm not one of those people who bitterly despise Valentine's Day, by the way. In fact, i don't really care about it one way or the other. i suppose that as a thinking person who tends to view the world with what i hope is a waning cynicism i see that it's another day that has been marketed to the gills. it seems like we don't believe in anything if it hasn't been sold to us. that's sad. truth is, when i am with someone, i am very into doing special things for that person. i suffer from a bit of a weak self-image and i compensate by being a giver. when i am with someone i tend to think they are gonna figure out that i don't deserve them and then hastily leave me. history has typically vindicated me on this point. but this isn't to say i am desperate and will date just anyone. truth is i have a fairly high standard and if i am interested in you, you will know it from me in word and deed. i am a man, perhaps one of the few who still hold the ideal of love fairly sacred. i know how unrealistic that is, but even that knowledge helps to feed my quixotic faith. but getting back to my point, i don't need a special day set aside every year to remind me what it means to love, or how lucky everyone who has love is. on the flip side, in our time, this consumer culture is designed to provide the maximum profit on any investment, so the people who market Valentine's Day know that by selling their wares, and the distribution of those wares, regardless how the lonely, sad, bitter, or disillusioned masses feel about it, they are actually doing someone good in the world. Although profit motive is callous, the fact is there is probably more pure love and appreciation in this country on days like Valentine's Day, Christmas, Easter, and so fourth then on just about every other day of the year. And regardless of how it got out there, that is a good thing.

For my own bit of the world, well... it's been long enough since i've kissed someone that i've now entirely forgotten what she tasted like. I have vague memories of the curve of our bodies asleep beside one another. I still remember her smile quite well, and the sting it creates when i couple it with why we are not together. Maybe she was right. Maybe she was wrong and was just afraid. Maybe the truth is even uglier than what came out. Or maybe we just were not meant to be. It doesn't put a single scratch or dent in my faith. I have never attached regret to love, and i can't think of a single reason to start now. 

For everyone else out there, i wish you all the best in dealing with monday, whether you celebrate with gifts and kissing and making love, or by ignoring the whole Hallmark mess and getting drunk with friends, or maybe just by sitting at home, quietly re-reading someone's journal and wondering if they are sincere when they profess such a foolish faith in love.