Ok, so all the feminists can put a hit out on me, I don’t care. Here’s my true feelings about valentine’s day… I WANT the roses, I WANT the romantic candlelit dinner…I want a man who WANTS to woo me. So I am this mean, control freaky, sarcasm loving, gruff bitch, but I want the romance. I need shit like that to remind me that I am still a girl. I want my husband to feel like he needs to work at this. It hurts my heart that he doesn't seem to think he does.
I know, the road goes both ways. If anyone is grabbing anyone’s ass in this house, giving little gropes and cuddles, a kiss in the middle of nowhere, IT’S ME… and I’m getting tired of it. Eventually when you get nothing in return, you start to think it’s not worth it. What’s the point? And so I stop doing even that. Along with stopping the shaving of my legs… again, what’s the point?
I try to portray us as this wonderfully happy couple. Not so. It’s the oddest couple I have ever known of. We get along beautifully. We never fight, we really are good friends. But the romance, hell, even the sex, needs work. And every once in a while, we both get to a point in the rut where we both stop working. And for awhile, it’s ok, but after a couple of weeks, it starts to get to me… does he not want me? What’s wrong with me?
So I hate Valentines Day because I am tired of being disappointed. I used to like it, I used to look forward to it. But I have learned not to get my hopes up... but it still sucks.