The ghost of Valetimes past

Tomorrow, as we all are keenly aware of, is Valentime's Day (yes, I said Valentime's), more appropriately known as Singles Awareness Day.

Boy, are we aware.

As most young children, I loved Valentime's Day in elementary school. Everyone brought candy and cheesy cards to class. One of the best days of the year.

In junior high and high school--I was not a fan. There was a different guy every year, and I still had no success.

Freshman year, my would-be-boyfriend-if-I-had-been-sixteen gave everyone Valentime's because he was such a grand guy. Barf.

Sophomore year, I was satisfied with the entertainment gained through sending my "husband" a candygram that said something scandalous about how I enjoyed our evening together. No romance ever evolved from that situation, but at least I wasn't incredibly depressed.

Junior year, the guy I was "dating" (mind you, this was a long-distance relationship and he refused to say we were officially dating, even though we were) didn't even bother to call me. I called him, and we talked for no more than five minutes before he had something else more pressing and important to attend to. Barf again. What the heck was I thinking?

Senior year (last year) I was in love with the Native (how could you not be?) and he told me he was gay a few days before Valentime's Day. I was so depressed. Popsicle and I lamely went to see Curious George with my nine-year-old brother. When I got home, Char wanted me to meet her Brazilian friend. I was in no mood to be social, but he messaged me anyway and I spilled my personal problems to him thinking that he was too detached for it to matter. I know it was a stupid idea, but from that idiotic decision of mine came an amazing friendship between the Native, Matt the Brazilian, and I.

So tomorrow, the three of us celebrate our anniversary. Too bad we're all separated. Weirdly enough, Popsicle's brother CheeseWheel and his roommate (who has yet to be named) are coming with my roommates and I to throw gummy bears at couples . Oh, a random guy from my bell group is coming too. We will call him Woodsy. He's cool.

And the Native, unlike the lame almost-boyfriend of junior year, has promised to call me.

For once, I'm not dreading Valentime's Day. Good luck to the rest of you.