Despite the holiday being part of my namesake, I haven't had the best luck in love, especially on Valentine's Day.

Last year, I got dumped less than a week before V-day. Read all about it. I read it over this year, and let me say I was super diplomatic in the writing of that article LOL.

My first real boyfriend once gave me a bag full of string cheese from the corner gas station (I recognized the bag), and prefaced his gift by saying, "this is for you to eat when you're here in the apartment, alone."

While it's true I love me some string cheese, after 4+ years of dating, I had my hopes set on something a bit more romantic. You'd be shocked to know we broke up for good, shortly after that cheesy gift.

Perhaps the cruelest joke Cupid played on me goes back to my high school days. Now, I didn't date much and was definitely a late-bloomer, but like all 16 year-old girls I was capable of crushing and crushing hard. I had the world's biggest crush (to date, I don't think I've ever felt the same level of intensity that comes so easily to teenagers and their feelings), and my crush had sent me a dozen roses for Valentine's Day.

I was elated. I took pictures of them. Multiple photos, with a film camera (it was the 90s), that I waited two weeks to develop at Wegmans.

By the time I got the film developed, I learned he'd only sent me the roses to make another girl jealous -- the girl he had a big crush on.

So I've yet to have the magical fantasy romantic Valentine's day that's the stuff of  a Garry Marshall romcom. It's cool, I still have my 50% off Reese's Peanut Butter Hearts tomorrow.

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