Every day is the 14th...

Dear Valentine,

I'm not entirely sure why I stay with you. It's rare that someone can make me feel worse than you. You jerk me around all the time. I see you around town with other guys, and wonder why you're even out with them. I wonder why you're treating them better than me, sometimes. You won't show up for months at a time, and when you do show up, you overwhelm me. You give me more options than I could possibly handle, and are irked when I can't keep up. You get into me and tear me apart, leaving me riddled with self-doubt, making me not sure if I'm good enough for you. Making me wonder if I'm just embarrassing myself when we're together. There are times when I want to quit this charade and just move far, far away...maybe start dating your cousin. Someone that's related to you, but not you. Never you.

I think those things sometimes. And then I remember why I love you. You have the capacity to make me feel so bad, because of your ability to bring me to heights I've never imagined. I hurt when you're gone, because the absence of you is so very profound. You've brought such amazing people in my life, from John Barrymore to Claudio to Blue Ramada. You allow me to forget everything when I need to. I wrote on an old blog that, with you, "I can ignore myself, and through that, I will blossom." But that isn't entirely true either. Because it's never about ignoring myself. It's about finding out who I am when I'm with you.

I hope you're always in my life. Thank you.

Happy Valentine's Day.