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Wednesday, Feb. 14, 2007 @ 8:04 p.m.

Today has been a depressing day. Yep... Valentine's Day... and I'm spending the evening home alone. While many people think of it as nothing but a Hallmark pseudo-holiday, it has come to hold a rather significant meaning for me.

I accepted my sexuality rather late - only when I was 21. Prior to that, Valentine's Day has always been completely meaningless and miserable for me, 'cos I've never had anyone to spend it with. When I was in high school, even though I knew I wasn't attracted to girls, I managed to somehow convince myself that I was straight... and that I was perpetually single because I just haven't "met the right girl" yet. Every Valentine's Day, the school halls would be crawling with people carrying gifts around. Guys would carry around flowers and heart-shaped boxes of chocolates for their girlfriends, and girls would saunter around the halls flaunting the flowers, teddy bears, and balloons that they've received. Bearing a gift meant that you were loved, or that you loved someone. All I ever bore were my textbooks, and Valentine's Day had always been very depressing for me. I was never loved in the romantic sense, and I never got to love anyone in that same way.

I remember one year in high school, seeing everyone around me exchanging Valentine gifts stressed me out so much, that I went out to buy myself a single stalk of rose. I carried it around just to give the impression to other people that I had someone to give it to, and that I actually mattered to someone. When people asked me who it was for, I'd say "someone special"... which was a lie, of course. Looking back, it was completely pathetic. It's definitely a very embarrassing secret. But I was just very much yearning to exchange affection with someone. I wanted what everyone around me had. I wanted so much to be able to relate to romantic comedies through personal experience. Needless to say, since I was in serious denial of my sexuality at that time, it wasn't surprising that nothing happened for me. It's rather impossible to look for a girlfriend when you're not even interested in girls.

When I was 21, after I finally accepted myself as a gay guy, I started to look for romance in the right places... and it finally happened with my first boyfriend. It was finally my turn to experience what everyone else had been experiencing all these years. February 14th finally had a special meaning for me... it felt as if I had been accepted into some exclusive club that I've been shut out of all my life, and I was going to wear my membership badge oh so proudly. It felt extra special because of that "I've finally made it" feeling that I've been yearning so long for.

I spent three very special Valentine's Days with French Fitch. They were filled with everything that I could have wanted. I told him about my bitter history with this day, and he went out of his way to make up for all those that I missed. Last year, I surprised him by flying us to beautiful Seattle for dinner at Sky City, the revolving restaurant atop the breathtaking Space Needle. We stayed one night in that gorgeous city, and when we were leaving for the airport, he told me that I was the best boyfriend ever. I didn't need a plane to fly back to LA that day - I could have floated all the way back on Cloud Nine.

Such a stark contrast to what I'm experiencing today. Going to work was torturous - there must have been 10 heart-shaped balloons floating around the lab. All the graduate students left early to make their romantic Valentine's Day dinner/evening plans, while single and lonesome ol' me stayed behind to pick up the slack. Came back to an empty home, and I'm just sitting on the couch, eating leftovers and driving myself crazy wondering if French Fitch has already moved on and got himself a date.

I guess after having experienced what a meaningful Valentine's Day felt like, I'm now feeling worse than the first 21 years of my life when this day meant nothing more to me than doing my homework. I've been tainted and spoiled. I'm trying desperately not to be pathetic and over-dramatic about it, but I just can't help feeling lower than a snake's belly. Having broken up just barely 4 weeks ago doesn't exactly help matters either.

Oh well, this day will be over in just a few hours, and life will go on. And hopefully, I'll have a better Valentine's Day next year.

To all you people lucky enough for this day to hold a special significance, I hope you had a great one.

Happy Valentine's Day.

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