I was once so desperate to get the attention of a young man who dumped me that I created a poetry magazine just to publish my sad little Valentine’s Day poem.
Many Valentine’s Days have come and gone and none were as desperate as that one but those pathetic lines proved prophetic:
“Valentine’s Eve, no knights of desire…Caught up like a kite in the wind with too many trees in my path.”
Ok, folks, I was only 16.
Over the years I spent many more of those Valentine’s Days and Nights alone than with someone special.
But things changed early in my coupledom with my husband as we sometimes went out to overpriced dinners and I received the $50-a- dozen-soon-to-be- wilting red roses. A night out – dinner, a sitter – could set us back a lot. I realized how lucky I was to be part of a couple and how much time I had wasted being sad when I was solo.
Yes, it’s the thought that counts and here’s my thought.
My Nordic prince, wherever you are: You were not worth poetry, not even my bad poetry. After I exposed myself and heard people laughing behind my back, I waited for any response. Even if I couldn’t win you back, I hoped to see some twinkle of recognition as you passed by and looked down from your lofty heights. Yet, I never knew what you thought. Only years later did someone tell me her story. Then I realized you were probably just making your way through the yearbook. I was only in the Fs. You had to hurry. It was midway through junior year and it was a long way to Z.
twice30 