What is the baa-humbug for Valentine’s day?
Its yet another February 14th and once again I am gonna be spending it alone. Here’s the plot twist though … I’m not single. In fact, I haven’t been single the last 8 valentines days AND YET I have spent the last 5 of them alone.
I fucking hate valentines day now. All I want is a girly gushy valentines day – which I hate myself for wanting btw – but it never happens.
This year is my 2nd valentines with Daddy – Last year he had a gig which was arranged before he even knew I existed so I can’t fault that and while lockdown this year is a valid reason, I’m allowed a bubble. That means I can have one person, which I choose to be him and yet I’m gonna be alone.
My Facebook bringing back the memories of Valentines gone by. Like the time when the ex started an argument over nothing, and I ended up crying for hours on the sofa with a bottle of wine – the picture of the bottle with the caption “Does it matter if its room temp?” reminding me. No-one knew my pain but me and him. Looking back, I can only wonder if those hours away were spent dick deep in another woman, since he was fond of the double dip. I hated how that felt and yet here I am years later feeling the same sadness in my heart now as I did then. I’m so unbelievably lonely and I’m tired of it. I’m fucking fed up.
Valentine's day is supposed to be a day for romance – and while it shouldn’t be, every day should be about romance, sometimes we all want that little something special. I don’t even care about getting a present – I just want to be loved. I want that physical touch with the man I love. I want to feel wanted. Except for the hug and kiss goodnight from the teen, and the occasional high five when he wins a gaming battle, I’ve been deprived of physical contact. I found myself the other day asking the teen for a hug and I just broke down in tears – really freaking him out by the way – but I couldn’t help it. I’m a tactile person. I need physical touch. I’ve gone past skin hunger – I’m now starved.
I know it’s just another day – That it means fuck all, only to sell chocolate and flowers at a ridiculously inflated mark up, but I can’t help it. I’m feeling so starved for affection, even the cheesy day that is Valentines feels like a bit of a kick in the tit.
I’m moaning. I know this. I guess I just want to get this off my chest and out of my head – It's more productive that sobbing into a pillow again.
This year is my 2nd valentines with Daddy – Last year he had a gig which was arranged before he even knew I existed so I can’t fault that and while lockdown this year is a valid reason, I’m allowed a bubble. That means I can have one person, which I choose to be him and yet I’m gonna be alone.
My Facebook bringing back the memories of Valentines gone by. Like the time when the ex started an argument over nothing, and I ended up crying for hours on the sofa with a bottle of wine – the picture of the bottle with the caption “Does it matter if its room temp?” reminding me. No-one knew my pain but me and him. Looking back, I can only wonder if those hours away were spent dick deep in another woman, since he was fond of the double dip. I hated how that felt and yet here I am years later feeling the same sadness in my heart now as I did then. I’m so unbelievably lonely and I’m tired of it. I’m fucking fed up.
Valentine's day is supposed to be a day for romance – and while it shouldn’t be, every day should be about romance, sometimes we all want that little something special. I don’t even care about getting a present – I just want to be loved. I want that physical touch with the man I love. I want to feel wanted. Except for the hug and kiss goodnight from the teen, and the occasional high five when he wins a gaming battle, I’ve been deprived of physical contact. I found myself the other day asking the teen for a hug and I just broke down in tears – really freaking him out by the way – but I couldn’t help it. I’m a tactile person. I need physical touch. I’ve gone past skin hunger – I’m now starved.
I know it’s just another day – That it means fuck all, only to sell chocolate and flowers at a ridiculously inflated mark up, but I can’t help it. I’m feeling so starved for affection, even the cheesy day that is Valentines feels like a bit of a kick in the tit.
I’m moaning. I know this. I guess I just want to get this off my chest and out of my head – It's more productive that sobbing into a pillow again.
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