I posted something on Instagram today, and I was really feeling it. I really did and do believe it. But now it is three hours to Valentine’s Day, and I know it is a commercialised date for capitalism, and I know some say the date is arbitrary, but tomorrow, tomorrow is the eighth time I will be spending it alone, which means it is eight full years I have been alone, and now, I have to have one of my best friends tell me that I haven’t been alone these past years, I had plenty of adventures, but to have them telling me this, I wonder, to what end have I had all those adventures? To what end, indeed? Ah, bugger.
Edit: my app just reminded me my period is in four days so perhaps the additional gloom is due to PMS — I am going to walk over to Mustafa Centre and buy myself chocolate :)
