I know it’s been some years since I’ve spoken to you, and you probably assumed I’d gotten past it by now, but I need some closure. I couldn’t tell you this before because I was too close to it; I needed time and space to gather myself and recover enough to say this to you.

You were supposed to be mine forever. We were happy with each other, weren’t we? For that little time we had together – those moments we shared, we were happy.

And then he came along. I tried to ignore it, but I could see in your eyes that I was losing you. And when I walked in on you two… doing what you were doing… your bodies moving in that perfect rhythm we had never been able to achieve together…

You ripped out my heart and shat on my soul that day. You shattered my world, ruined my life, and left me a broken man.

It was the worst 5th grade dance ever.

Love,

Pip

When we were kids, we used to buy the big 24-pack of Valentine’s day cards (or rather, our mothers used to buy them for us), and we’d pass them out at random to everyone in the class.

You know the ones I’m talking about. They came perforated, four to a sheet, in a variety of cartoons; Peanuts was a staple, but there was also Pound Puppies, etc. Sometimes you’d even find G.I. Joe, but your mother wouldn’t let you buy that one because it was too cool and Valentine’s day isn’t cool.

And then your teacher would make you give them out to everyone. Everyone. Which was a weird time, because while you didn’t really want to give them to the opposite sex, if you were a guy (and I was. Still am, come to that.) you sensed there was something even weirder about giving them to other guys*.

And in this manner, you’d learn about love: that it’s traded in little slips of paper.

I wonder what would happen we tried this as adults? Just walk onto the street and start handing out My Little Pony valentine cards to random people?

Try it; let me know how that comes out.

*Unless, of course, you were gay. In which case, I imagine V-Day was really awkward.