Valentine’s Day has become a bane in my life along with birthdays, Christmas, New Years; Hallmark events that demand expectations.
There may be a list of psychoanalytical reasons to describe my cynicism; I am a happy and grateful person but I feel my anxiety level rise as soon as a “festive” season approaches.
So at this point in time, half an hour is left until this individual day, when love is sold through commercial organ-shaped confectionery and beautiful flowers that would soon wither, is over.
Plant your own garden and decorate your own soul, instead of waiting for someone to bring your flowers.
What Valentine tales can you share with me? Entail my next chapter pretty please.