An Open Letter to All Couples on Valentine’s Day
Today is Valentine’s Day, our culture’s celebration of the countless incarnations of human affection: whether the stability of a marriage or the torridity of an affair, the unbridled passion of the young or the steadfast commitment of the aged, the profound and unparalleled harmony of soulmates or the innocent infatuation of schoolchildren. On this day, couples just like you will enlace their fingers over a dinner table or recline in bed in each other’s arms, contemplating their relationships, whether in satisfied reflection on their romantic accomplishments or invigorated anticipation of a promising future. On this day, your private relationships take on a public dimension, as you gather in restaurants, parks, and coffee shops, exchanging gifts and springing for drinks, participating in a grand societal affirmation of the desirability, the necessity, and ultimately, the goodness of love.
Fuck you. Did you hear that, you shameless, love-sick exhibitionists? Fuck you. Fuck you and your reciprocated affections. Fuck you and your steady companionship. Fuck you and your fulfilled sexual desires. Where do you get off flaunting your relationships before the scowling eyes and desperate hearts of those with less romantic fortune? What else do you like to do, eat in front of the homeless? Mail monopoly money to those TV charities for African children? Go for family strolls in front of the barred, grimy windows of orphanages? Why not just take your fawning, drooling companions for a romantic weekend abroad and set up an ample picnic feast on some starved thoroughfare in Calcutta, you assholes.
Valentine’s Day is an odious holiday which provides minimal value to those in relationships yet maximum irritation to those who are single. While the only thing you’ll gain is the uninspiring knowledge that your partner is too petrified to abdicate their cultural duty, the aggravations experienced by the rest of us are many and diverse. Each glimpse of you passing hand in hand down the street or engaged in some grotesque public display of affection is a cruel reminder that we’ll be assuaging our loneliness tonight with a couple of king-size Butterfingers and a Twilight DVD, and that the only thing we’ll be in bed with is one of our more affectionate cats.
So, to all couples this Valentine’s day, out of consideration for others, in the spirit of civility, in the name of decency, modesty, and sympathy: fuck off.
To the rest of us: …well, there’s always next year.
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