Okay, so now that everyone has had their fill of cavity-causing sweetness (both literally and figuratively,) let's get down and dirty and dole out the sour apples. You know, we all have them--those less than sparkling memories that pummeled our confidence or bore chips on our shoulders. Hey, that's life. You win some, you lose some.
Today is all about the anti-Valentine. Beth Fred's idea, and I have to say I love it. I get sick of all the sugary romance (just ask my hubby) and I find myself craving a healthy dose of realism from time to time. I've had equal shares of broken hearts and breaking hearts, but believe it or not, I ain't bitter. Life is too short.
So this little memory of my worst Valentine's ever, is going out to all those singles who haven't met Mr./Mrs. Right yet; to all those peeps who feel a little pain in their chest when this Hallmark holiday rolls around--you know, the one better known as Valentine's Day, but is more aptly called, Singles Awareness Day.
Picture it: High school, February of 1990. I'm a junior, boyfriendless, and it's almost Valentine's and time for the Sadie Hawkins dance (you know the one where the girls ask the guys.) I've had a crush on this junior guy for a few months now, and we've done some flirting. He's driven me home a few times because I don't have a car yet. Okay, I'm under-stating when I say "crush." I'm totally infatuated with this dude--total red neck too. I don't know what I was thinking. Nothing against red necks, but this guy was the worst sense of the stereotype.
Anyway, I finally get up the nerve to ask him to the dance. He says yes and I buy the dance tickets and a brand new dress. A few days before the dance, the guy totally blows me off. He dodges me in the halls, doesn't offer me a ride anymore, pretends he doesn't see me ... that kind of thing. The night of the dance I'm fully aware there isn't going to be any date. I'm left without any explanation, two good-for-nothing tickets that I bought, a new dress, and a broken heart for Valentine's. My parents were like, "What the heck happened?"
It was one of those times when you just don't know how to answer. Do you tell your mom and dad you're a loser? Do you curse the guy out? I remember my answer was very vague, something like, "I just changed my mind is all."
I think I was more ticked off than depressed. It was such a lame thing to do--the equivalent of standing someone up. I was feeling pretty down on myself. At sixteen, everything is over-intensified. When I ran into him a few years after high school, oh how the tables had turned. What can I say, I was a late bloomer ... and it was such sweet revenge. ;)
But, I'm happy to report that poor sixteen year old PK didn't have to endure heartbreak for long ... exactly one month later, I hooked up with the guy who would become my high school sweetheart. We stayed together throughout the rest of high school and first year into college. I ended up moving on and breaking his heart, but life is like that. Just meant I was moving on to eventually meet Mr. Hrezo (my Mr. Right.)
So that's my worst date story ever. I know, it's not that bad. But at the time it sure felt like it. Hop over to Beth's blog for Anti-Valentine HDQ and read the other entries.
What about you? Any bad dates, loves, Valentine's you wanna share?? I'm all ears!