Cupid and Beer

Die Cupid, Die!

So this post has been revised a bit, after some careful reflection and thoughtful advice *wink*

I’ve recently discovered that ‘I’ fell for the trap of Valentines Day, I tried to go over the top, didn’t listen to my cues. They say the road to hell is paved with the best of intentions, I wholeheartedly agree. This V-day I kinda felt like a deflated superhero, a premature ejaculation, a false start get the point. The verdicts are in: you know what I mean, all the conversations and reports from your friends where you tally the wins and losses of this VDAY. I’ll admit this post may even be a little late, but completely relevant!

I’m usually a self-described Romantic, but this year none of the odds were in my favor. I know, there is even that noble blog I wrote about not, falling for the trap of V-Day and being overwhelmed by what to do, Kis (keep it simple), execution, what she wants, what she says.

So below is my official Dear John Letter to Valentine, Cupid and all those other red wearing, heart carrying fuchs!

It goes something like this..

Until next year you fat little cherub bastard, you *almost*ruined my V-Day. The end.

I admit I have flare for dramatic and a way with words, but seriously how many of you ruined your Valentines Day, because you watched to many Kay Jeweler commercials, you didn’t believe love was the answer, unless is rested inside a chocolate strawberry and sparkled,  and you listened when she said she wasn’t into flowers.

What I learned is that on V-Day all people are fundamentally the same, they want the same affection, love, thoughtfulness and affection you give daily.

So, as I sit here wishing there was a rewind on my magical false start. I realize that for me V-Day means Cupid and Beer. For you its flowers, dancing, diamonds and perfume. For him it’s a gift card and getting ready for March Madness. Someone told me that Valentines is everyday and we shouldn’t get so worked up over it.

Someone should tell that to the rest of the world.

Happy V-Day!


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