Valentine’s Day has never been much more than a day the world gangs up on me and tries to make me feel bad if I don’t have flowers or chocolate. But for the last 12 years, I’ve had someone there with me.
This year, there’s no one, and the ache throbs. It woke me up through the night, the coldness in the bed amplified, the quiet in the house. Nobody loves me-maybe I had always made a stink about the flowers, but I always knew I was loved.
This year, it’s a silent grey morning, and I cannot wash the sad from my face.