Valentine’s Day, Breakups, and My Aching Heart


It feels like highly unfortunate timing, breaking off a long term relationship a week before the holiday celebrating romantic love. It seems so unfair that I’m still grieving far too much to take any joy in it.  I’d like to lodge a complaint with the universe. Can my next breakup not be the week before the holiday about love? Also, could you make it not on a Sunday?  I did not enjoy having to go through an entire week of functioning before getting to wallow properly.

I don’t want to be a bitter single person on Valentine’s Day bitching about consumerist holidays. That trope is so ugly and so played out, and anyhow, it’s not me. Because I like Valentine’s Day, usually. You’re not going to scare me off with a little consumerism, I live in the United States. I’d like to talk to you about the importance of self love and platonic love and how you don’t need a partner to feel whole. Certainly, I believe those things, and yet, I’m still in pain.

My ex really cared about holidays and anniversaries. I’m not as focused on them, but he put a high importance on being together on specific days to celebrate specific things. I highly doubt I’d be this upset about Valentine’s Day if he hadn’t. Last Valentine’s Day was the first and only Valentine’s Day I spent with him, and it was lovely. He made a point of us getting to see each other on that day. I stayed the weekend at his house, just enjoying getting to spend time with him. On Valentine’s Day, we had sleepy early morning sex, the kind that starts as half-awake cuddles and which turned into us having PIV for the first time. We were so proud of ourselves. I had come so far from trauma and pain and a reluctant vagina, and I had done it with him. He had been so gentle and caring and hadn’t pushed, but had encouraged me the whole way. That kind of love and encouragement and emotional support was so wonderful to have.

I wish I could give you a happy Valentine’s Day post. Or a funny one, or an inspirational one, or a wildly off topic one where I just talk about butts and ignore what day it is. I wish this were a post about self-love, but I haven’t even touched myself since the breakup. What am I supposed to think about while I jerk off if not him? This is where I am right now. With pain in my chest and tightness in my throat and tears in my eyes.

This Valentine’s Day, I am grieving. I am filled with pain and loss and wanting. That’s okay. This is a part of loving and losing and trying again. This is where I’m at this Valentine’s Day, so I’m going to let myself be here for a while. I’m going to wallow and take care of myself and feel my feelings. As far as love and sex go, I’ll get back to y’all in a while.


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