
Most of my 20s, I spent Valentine's Day pretending I didn't care.
I was alone while couples celebrated.
I felt their eyes on me.
The guy with no one.
Ashamed of what that said about me.
The sadness was there.
I just wouldn't let myself feel it.
Suppressed it.
Acted indifferent.
Told myself I was fine.
Yesterday, I didn't celebrate either.
Both our toddler and newborn were sick.
Crying all day.
Couldn't sleep.
My wife and I had maybe 30 minutes together at the end of the day.
Nothing about the day was romantic.
Yet I was OK.
Not just OK as in "not miserable."
Back then, getting a partner felt like the solution.
And in a way it was.
The pain went away when I finally got my first girlfriend.
But most people with partners aren't happy on Valentine's Day.
They're just not lonely.
Looking back, that’s what I felt.
The want got satisfied.
But it didn't get let go of.
Happiness isn't the absence of pain.
It's not needing the day to go differently than it does.
That shift isn't about finding the right person.
You don't have to stop feeling lonely.
You have to stop fighting it.
And that's usually when love actually has room to find you.

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