It’s 8:45pm on a Saturday night and I’m laying in bed. I’m indulging in the comfort of my double bed and the fairy lights that are dotted around my room, as the wait for the pizza and dough balls I just ordered from Domino’s begins. As soon as it’s here I’ll be pressing ‘play’ on the newest episode of The Vampire Diairies.

My life is so exciting.

Being alone on a Saturday night with nothing but a takeaway and a fantasy show to watch is normally rather solitary, although comforting to know nobody can disturb you or annoy you when you’re stuffing your face and getting your weekly fix of that “shit programme you watch”. You can eat shit, look shit, and just not even care. Especially when it’s the night before the day every single person in the world who’s in love goes loco. Valentine’s Day.

This time last year I was in the cinema with my flatmates from my first year of university, watching 50 Shades of Grey. That part I enjoyed. The day after, everything went tits up. It was February 14th, I had planned to get up at about 7am, get my megabus home at 8:30, in the hope to be home by 11(ish). Being my first time getting the bus, I didn’t even know where the stop was and the people I asked also had no idea. The people being my flatmates at the time. Love you Amy and Jason. Long story short, I waited 45 minutes, missed the bus, lost my patience, walked back to my accommodation with my suitcase and stopped by at Tesco, just to buy a bottle of Prosecco. No lie, I probably looked like a crazy and stressed or heartbroken alcoholic. I didn’t care though, I had missed my bus and needed that wine. The fact it was Valentine’s Day made it that much more unbearable, since walking in to a store and buying something that’s in that ‘for your loved ones’ section, suddenly opens up the door to let the people who have 10282829 and 1 questions to ask you about your plans for Valentine’s Day. Being the awkward yet discrete person that I am, I just responded to the checkout assistant at Tesco with “I don’t know yet”, when he asked me what my plans for the day were. Hopefully he thought I had woken up extra early, popped a nice outfit and my red lippy on, and made a quick trip to Tesco to buy champers for “the lucky guy’s” breakfast in bed. Hopefully.

Moving on from thinking about how much I wish that could happen, I’m thinking about how just because you’re alone on Valentine’s Day it doesn’t mean you’re pathetic, or a loser, or incapable of being in a relationship. It’s normal. Out of the four girls I live with, two of them are in relationships, and Kerry is actually downstairs right now making spaghetti bolognese with her boyfriend. I can smell it. I’m drinking Lilt out the bottle like the classy, super duper healthy student I am, but I feel so motivated to drill it into people’s heads that it doesn’t make them any less cool or any less lovable to be single on Valentine’s Day.

We can predict the amount of red roses, Krispy Kremes, a few trips to London and maybe engagements we will see on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter and so on tomorrow. Nevertheless, I think the negative Nancy’s of Feb 14th should embrace Valentine’s Day and encourage the lovey-dovey. If you can’t suck it up, stay indoors and sigh with relief when the clock strikes 12 on Feb 15th.

I am happy for those people who are happy and hopefully someday, my trip to Tesco will actually be for a bottle of champagne ready to be poured into a glass flute and popped onto a tray for some poor guy’s breakfast in bed.

Thanks for reading and happy almost Valentine’s to all of the love birds out there ❤️

What do you do on your Saturday nights in?

P.S. – my pizza was lovely.


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