What becomes of the broken hearted ?

It 's the dreaded day every single woman dreads , it's V DAY ( cue the Darth Vader music) . You know you should act like you could give a rats arse about a catholic saints day that Hallmark got a hold of in a bid for world domination , you're an atheist and you don't even like red. But Inside you do . You say to your friends how about that girls night out and suggest conveniently , February the fourteenth . They all respond that they have a date because , you know they have a partner that loves them dearly or are successful in being remotely attractive and intriguing to the opposite sex. It leaves you pretending that's cool , you'll find something to do .

This is what you find to do : Sit in your ugly , silly , fleece owl pajamas that you've had on constantly for two days and smell like coco pops because even spilling your lunch ( yeah I eat cereal for lunch) hasn't encouraged you to put on clothes. You acquire a BOX of cheap wine and a bottle of your favourite black labeled spirit , you tell yourself it was completely justified to eat the £1 box of chocolates your mother gave you (in the parental equivalent pity fuck ) for brekkie and you watch shitty ROM Com's that make you cry . Add being temperamental all day at shitty VDAY themed TV and the loss of a woman who was very very dear to you and you have something marginally worse than Bridget Jones because she's real.

I hurt . Everyone leaves me ( no, I'm not drunk yet ) I'm angry because no one finds ME wildly exciting and irresistible and my 'one' Is trying to impregnate his wife. On Saturday I held someone I couldn't replaces hand as the light faded out of their eyes and they stopped breathing . There isn't tablets to make this week go away. I don't care If anyone knows I'm not a strong , cold hearted bitch like all the really cool hot girls on twitter . This is what I am and there's nothing other than therapy to fix that.

Valentines Is now a day of reflection on what a mess I've made of things , who I've lost and the bad things that happened to me. My heart aches , it's not red and glittery . The only connotation candy hearts have for me is ten million more pounds added to my already chunky thighs and now forever more this stupid ass day will remind me how I lost two people , who I loved more than I can tell you In a matter of days. I'll miss them for ever not just on some stupid invented holiday .

So hey everyone making jokes about how they don't care . Shut up ! We know you do ! And to all those rubbing their delightful , perfect valentines with their soul mate in the broken hearted wounds : There's pride and then there's bragging . Remember that Pride comes before a fall. To the broken hearted , I'm sorry , I know how much it hurts.