I am so over you. We are breaking up. This has not been working for a while and we both know it. And you know what? I am going to say the thing you are not supposed to say. It is you, not me. You are clingy, stifling and straight-up boring. Yes, you may have a national holiday named after you, but I no longer find anything appealing about the card company sellouts, plush stuffed animals or tacky, heart-shaped candy boxes. We had some good times together – the cool Mulan-themed cards in the third grade, and that one year I bought a holiday-themed shirt. Sure, you made me laugh, but most of all, I just gained weight. Enough is enough. And for the record, I broke up with you first.

I hate Valentine’s Day. I am, in every aspect, a hardliner Valentine’s Day hater. I am the Grinch who stole Valentine’s Day. I am the Scroogiest Scrooge of Hearts there ever was. There is nothing appealing to me about the holiday that reminds me that most of my relationships fail, nor do I rejoice in the glorification of childhood obesity, this preposterous idea of baby Cupid. Am I really supposed to believe a small obese child barely clothed with wings will find me love? Great. I’ll revoke my gym membership now.

My sheer detestation of the holiday is most definitely not unwarranted. I can trace it straight back to Valentine’s Day in fifth grade. We were going around dropping our homemade cards into each other’s boxes when my super-cute crush, Connor, the fifth grader able to rock a rat tail, did not drop one of his Power Ranger cards into my box.

A short nine years later, I find as a college student, my feelings against the holiday have only grown more vehement. As students with measly bank accounts and a na’ve sense of love, we are the greeting card companies’ target market for their sentimental schmutz. Valentine’s Day itself is an investment, funding that could be better spent, perhaps, on a new pair of shoes.

Even beyond the pricey affair, the idea of a day devoted to lovey dovey canoodling and whispering sweet nothings in one another’s ears completely nullifies the romantic tenets that should be in a relationship the other 364 days of the year. Suppose we do find that special someone to spend the day with – no small feat in college – how do we set about making this one day, devoted to all shades of red and pink, as well as candy Necco hearts, more special than any other day in the relationship? It’s as if we are saying to your significant other, “Sorry I never paid you the attention you deserve the rest of the year, but enjoy the discounted box of chocolates!” I wonder what baby Cupid would have to say to that.

This Valentine’s Day you will find me far away from the ooey-gooey love stuff. The only part I learned to enjoy about the holiday over the years is the copious amounts of delicious goodies available half-price at CVS, post-holiday. This year, take the holiday as an opportunity to relax with your friends and rejoice in your lack of commitment. But especially don’t forget to collect your candy coupons after the holiday.