There is no day that quite takes the wind out of the dateless person's sails like Valentine's Day. Whether in such a place by choice or by chance, you still feel a small twinge of jealousy as you watch chocolate, flowers and small singing teddy bears flow freely off of drug store shelves and into the waiting arms of those in love. As you walk past them, dejectedly, they hardly even notice you, mostly because they are embracing and stuffing themselves full of caramels.
As one of these dateless people, (yes, I said it), I am more than well aware of these lovey-dovey scenes played out nearly 365 days a year, particularly when I am in a hurry and carrying heavy books. We've all seen them: those overzealous couples who part before math class as if going off to meet the firing squad.
Well, such is Valentine's Day, increased a hundredfold in the eyes of the dateless. You see a girl open her locker to find the flowers her boyfriend bought her and squeal as though he had proposed marriage. Then, you pass a couple huddled over the heart-shaped boxes of chocolates they just exchanged. And if you're really lucky, you'll have a front row seat as they walk in front of you to Global, arm in arm, sighing contentedly. Somewhere, deep down, there's a little part of you that wishes, just for a second, that you had a bucket of icy water. The thought makes you giggle like a small child.
However, there is something that we, the dateless, can do about all this. On Feb. 14, I am going out and buying one of those tacky little gorillas that sings "Wild Thing." I am going to give it to myself. I might even hide it and pretend to be surprised. Then, as I open my bag of Reese's Cups, I will listen to it serenade me. Maybe even more than once! If love equals chocolate or even the other way around, may it be Valentine's Day every day of the year. Now go spread the love.
Rachel Dobiesz is a sophomore at Hamburg High School.