Two days to Valentine’s Day. I am trying to think of a suitable way to protest but all I can come up with is to coat candy hearts in wormwood and gall and go around giving them to people. Then I imagine the face my intended of the moment would make after popping my tenderly proffered “I love you” heart into his mouth. I don’t think my self-esteem could handle it.
In the meantime, in the last week I have gone from dating two hot men (M.S. and N.E.) to dating no hot men. I’m not quite sure how this happened but I blame them. M.S., who is funny but not smart, wanted me to date him exclusively. Since I had been seeing him for exactly six days, this made perfect sense to me. So I told N.E., who is smart but not funny, that I thought that we were not meant to be boyfriends. Then M.S. stopped returning my phone calls (evidently having been abducted by aliens). When I suggested to N.E. that maybe I’d been wrong (figuring to myself that hot and smart, while not as good as hot and funny, is better than nothing at all) he said no, he’d thought about it, and we shouldn’t date.
I suppose I should consider this a lesson in the fact that two birds in the hand are better than none in the bush, but, honestly, I could have figured that one out on my own.
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