For those of you who have never read my older blogs, this should be somewhat new. I am, of course, hoping that I haven't pulled a stunt like this on this one. But, then again, my memory has always been selective. And for those of you who have read my older blog(God save you..!), this should make you feel right at home. You know that warm mushy feeling that you get in the corner of your heart???
What's the point of it all?
Every year, for the past god-knows-how-many years, Valentine's day comes and goes by and it doesn't make a single difference to me. The week leading up to the day is always the same - is this it? And then, D-Day minus two onwards it becomes progressively clear that it is not this that that 'it is this'. It's just another one of 'those'. It's not that I hate the whole concept, but it is just that I hate the concept of me having to go through it year after year. If there is a glimmer of hope it is shot to hell by either another (or rather the actual) boyfriend or a ring on the fourth finger of the left hand.
I guess it is going to be the same this year too...
22 years and still going strong