In elementary school, Valentine’s Day was fun. I went to the stationery store with my Mom, picked out a box of perforated Smurf Valentines, and sat in front of the TV with a copy of my class list, making sure to include everyone as I wrote out my cards. I decorated a brown paper lunch bag with stickers and glitter, and carefully wrote my name in cursive with a red Magic Marker. The next day, I taped the bag to the side of my desk, and walked around the room depositing cards in everyone else’s bags. In return, I received cards from everyone else. All was fair in love and Valentine’s Day until 6th grade.
Then everything fell apart.
In 6th grade, my crush Josh* asked me to go to the Valentine’s Dance with him, which basically meant that I was his girlfriend. This being my first boyfriend, and for Valentine’s Day no less, I took it very seriously. After a class trip to the library to learn about the Dewey Decimal System, we stopped at the mall for lunch. I headed to a gift shop and studied the Valentine’s Day cards, finally selecting one that looked like a personal ad. For my boyfriend. Keep reading »
































