Love is a disease
The most I do for Valentine’s Day is remind others that it’s Valentine’s Day. I don’t do romantic stuff anymore. I have no one to do it for or with and don’t hold out much hope that I ever will again. As I wrote two years ago, fat, shy recluses (hermits? hermitesses? hermiti?) are unlikely to encounter romantic encounters.
But that’s okay. As I also mentioned back then, it was my dad who, after marrying for the second time at age 86 and less than a year after my mom died, declared, “Love is a disease.” Mom probably would have said, “Too soon old, too late smart.”
Anyway, if you have a significant other, do something special for him or her before this day is out.
Happy Valentine’s Day.