I Hate February 14th

Valentine's day - one of the worst days of the year.  Bitter much?  Yes I am. 

Valentine's day is just another day of the year that has no meaning in my life.  I have never had a boyfriend or significant other.  Never been in love.  And in all likelyhood, I will die having never experienced these things. 

People say that there is someone for everyone.  Just another lie.

In the social group I was raised in, if you were a black female, your chances of finding a mate was even worse than in the world in general.  So from my preteen years, I already knew I would probably be alone my entire life and die that way.  I have this recurrent 'daymare' in which I die, and I am not found until weeks later, because I have no one who cares.  The older I get the more I fear that this will become more than just a dream.

I grew up in a culture where dating was not acceptable unless you were ready to walk down the aisle.  It wasn't even called dating (that word was kind of taboo), it was called courting and it had only one purpose - to get to know your potential mate with the end goal being a wedding.  When you found someone you were interested in and you wanted to start courting, you had to be chaperoned; holding hands was frowned upon, and kissing - ABSOLUTELY NOT!  If by some unfortunate circumstance you did something more intimate than kissing (like touching a breast or the nether regions), well you had better rat yourself out to the "older men in the congregation" and take your discipline.

Even as f*cked up as dating was in the weird world of JWs, I would have like to have had the experience of being important to someone at least once.  But being born "black" (I despise this term, my skin is chocolate brown, NOT black) and ugly, I might as well had been invisible because no one sees you (guess I was noticed at least once in my life because a brother in my congregation told me I was ugly when we were out in field service.  I have never forgotten that day and I still want to punch that 'brother' in his face.)

I did make the mistake of letting myself crush on four different JW males, but I came to my senses when I remembered that I was less than nothing to these people.  In all honesty, I got what I deserved because I was the dumb bitch who made the mistake of thinking that maybe some would want me.

However, in the spirit of full disclosure, there was the potential of a relationship once.  He was a fellow student that I met at junior college.  He was 10 years my junior but we hit it off and became fast friends (something I have never had a problem with - I make friends pretty easily).  Things started to evolve and soon we were talking on the phone several times a week and I don't think we ever had a phone call that was less than 2 hours long.  We talked about everything - life, religion, politics, art, movies, sex, marriage, kids, a black woman's haircare, etc.  Talking to him was as natural as breathing.

I knew things were moving in the "wrong" direction when he asked me to ride with him on a class trip (for Art History 101) to the a popular museum. It was only me and him - we did not carpool with any of the other students.  On the way back to the college we stopped for dinner.  I remember being conflicted because I enjoyed his company, but because he was not a JW I was being disloyal to the "invisible dictator" in the sky.  I was also fearful of other JWs walking into the restaurant and seeing me with him.  Even with all the guilt I was feeling, I still went out to dinner with him again.  We went to an Irish pub and he gifted me a copy of "League of Extraordinary Gentlemen" which was my favorite movie that year. 

Eventually the guilt won dominance and I started pulling away from him.  No explanation.  I did not treat him fairly.  I don't think a month goes by that I don't think about him and our brief time at least once.  That was the one and only chance I had to experience love and I threw it away because of the lies of a cult.  I can't even find the words to express the anger I still harbor about of this.

Now I am old and fat in addition to being black and unattractive.  A 100% guarantee that that I will die alone, never having experienced falling in love, never having had sex, and never having had a child of my own.

So, I hate Valentine's Day.  It is just a reminder of what I will never have.  Seeing people receive gifts from their significant others is like having a butcher's knife plunged into my gut and twisted for maximum damage.  I try to harden my heart and purge my soul of emotion but I am never completely successful. 

I guess my destiny is to suffer in silence until I finally drop dead and find a semblance of peace.

Stepford Escapee