Gloomy: A Different Kind of Love Story

On the outside, I pretend that Valentine's Day isn't a big deal. I joke around and make fun of the couples I see online posting photos and videos celebrating their love for each other. But deep down, I’m envious. I wish I had what they have, I wish someone would be beside me to share in my sorrow and joy. To have someone with whom I can share everything and be myself, and be able to bare my soul to.

I can’t remember a time in my life where I had a relationship like that. Yes, I’ve dated, but I’ve never had the kind of relationship where I can post about it on Valentine's Day. The kind where I feel comfortable enough and safe just by their mere presence in the room. My friends say my idealistic view of love and romance is what’s causing me this sorrow.

But what’s so bad about having that point of view? I want the butterflies, I want the dancing in the rain, I want that grand romance that's written about in books and seen in movies. My friends say that's unrealistic to search for in a partner, but I say if I am willing to do those things, then surely there are more like me out there, searching for their grand love story.

I’ve not given up, and I don’t really plan to. I still have a lifetime left to live, and I believe in love enough to be patient. Because I know that that one person is worth waiting for. So, I’ll spend another Valentine's Day single looking at lovey-dovey posts on the internet and feel envious. I’ll lie in wait for my person because I really believe she's running towards me as fast as she can. Just like I am towards her.

I am nothing if not a patient man. And when it comes to love, I don’t mind waiting.