The holiday of romance has passed us by. It makes you think ofrelationships, or if you're in the same boat as me, failedrelationships.
Honestly, in nearly all my former relationships, I was a jerk --inattentive and too self-absorbed to care.
My girlfriends would complain about my behavior, and I'd say"Well, I'll just end this." But I hold myself responsible andinvite every one of those women to express their less-than-friendlyopinions about me.
After a lifetime of being a bastard, I finally realized I wasn'thappy and decided to change. I wanted to be a good guy, so Ibrought my atrophied white horse out from its dusty corral andmounted up. I decided to go for prince.
What did I accomplish? I merely exchanged emotional places withevery poor girl I'd ever ruined. That's right -- I was dumped. Callthe poetic justice historians -- they've got one. Though if yourefer to it as poetic justice, well, sod off.
I wondered what exactly I did wrong. I even listened to bullstories and shopped for people's babies -- things that make a nooseseem appealing.
After thinking for sometime, it occurred to me that whileprinces ride white horses, Death rides a pale one. But isn't thehorse the same damn color? Maybe our metaphorical white horse is inthe same luck box as the black cat. Come on, everyone knows blackcats are evil. I shouldn't want to be a prince anyway. Nice seemsto equal buggered.
Think about that as we say farewell to that fine holiday wherewe compete with thousands of couples to get the perfect dinner,take in a movie and get home for a helping of lovin'. We try tocompete with our significant other and try to outdo last year.Let's put all these lame white horses down. They may look pretty toride, but getting thrown off sucks.
I was talking with a friend this week who referred toValentine's Day as the "Black Holiday". She also made the pointthat it's ridiculous to have a day to be nice to your significantother.
Shouldn't we try to make them feel special every day? Nah,that's white horse talk.
