the only difference between martyrdom and suicide is press coverage
im not saying this because im single.
im not saying this because im bitter.
im not even saying this because im a guy.
im saying this because im right.
im right – and you know im right.
because if you think back to when you were eight, that was the FIRST, and the LAST time that valentines day actually meant something.
valentines meant eight year old butterflies flitting about in eight year old stomachs.
valentines meant eight year old hearts resonating in eight year old chests.
valentines meant eight year old eyes widening as eight year old fingers lifted up the top of that eight year old’s desk.
and amongst the papers and pens, maybe that eight year old found the valentine that they sought.
or maybe they didn’t.
but for that one afternoon (and perhaps only for that afternoon), valentines day actually meant something to someone.
even if it only meant something to an eight year old.