But I’m STILL The One Who’s Sick?

Last Christmas, I compiled a list of absurdities about the holiday to point out that I don’t have a problem because I don’t celebrate it, but rather you have one because you do.  Overall, it was well-liked and shared around the internet, but people who celebrate Christmas turned around and said, “Yes.  You’re the one who’s sick.”

Well, this past Tuesday, there were a lot of stupid posts around the Big F which said, “Happy Valentine’s Day,” or words to that effect.

Okay, so I’d have posted this sooner if I followed holidays, but I just noticed Tuesday and I had to have time to write it.  You know, even my mother, who happens to be one of the people who thought I was sick for not celebrating Christmas, has said about Valentines Day, “I’m not a fan of Valentine’s Day.  I don’t like the idea of treating someone like shit 364 days of the year and then treating them nice one day to try to get some sex out of it.”  Yeah.  She used those words.  I don’t judge her.  I use those words too.   Also it made more sense then because it wasn’t usually leap year like it is this year. So, I’m not a selfish pervert who uses an arbitrary day as a justification for doing whatever it takes to get some sex out of it, but I’m still the one who’s sick?

I’ve seen couples comprised to two people who feel exactly the way that I do, but went through with it anyway because they were afraid their partners would leave them for not celebrating this ridiculous day, but I’m still the one who’s sick?

You know, I kind of like my sex to be romantic, not preprinted on my calendar the day I bought it, but I’m still the one who’s sick?

This is how most people know Valentines Day, but they really don’t know its origin.  On February 14th, 1929, five members of Chicago’s North Side Gang,  along with two collaborators, were murdered execution style.  Nobody ever proved it, but everyone seems to know Al Capone was behind it.  It’s known as the Saint Valentine’s Day Massacre.  You know, I never thought it right to celebrate murder and mayhem with sex and candy, but I’m still the one who’s sick?

Perhaps it is appropriate because most people I know would rather have been murdered in the massacre than not have a significant other on this arbitrary day.  I don’t feel compelled to define my happiness through the existence of another, but I’m still the one who’s sick?

So, the next time St. Valentines Day Massacre Day (or Valentine’s Day for short) comes around, and you’re with somebody, act as if the day isn’t real.  If they leave you, or even get angry with you for it, the relationship never really existed in the first place.  You’re not sick.  Your partner is.

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