By Katie Halper
Some historians trace Valentines Day back to a Roman fertility festival when drunk and naked men sacrificed goats and dogs, whipping women with their hides (always a turn-on), while others say the holiday originates from the bloody martyrdom of a man named Valentine (almost as romantic).
And what are you really missing out on? The way he (insert gender-appropriate pronoun/s) celebrated Valentine’s Day with you is probably a reminder enough of why you’re no longer together. Maybe he bought you a cardboard heart filled with chocolates (95% Crisco 5% cocoa). Or that $19.95 TV-call-in-bouquet, whose roses were dead in the morning, while the baby’s breath shed its dandruff for months. A teddy bear that looked like a fat dog and was made by some five-year-old in a Thai sweatshop. Or if things were serious, a bracelet of gold, mined by teenage slaves in Niger. All topped off by a romantic dinner at an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet, for which he had an about-to-expire Groupon coupon.
OK, so now your painful walk down memory lane has erased all longing, but ignited your anger. And now you want to text or write not to say, “Won’t you be my Valentine?” but rather “Won’t you go #fuck yourself!” But that’s not a good idea either. Don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he has any effect on you. And don’t make yourself vulnerable to his response or deafening silence. Sure, you could e-mail yourself or a friend, but that’s not nearly as satisfying as what we propose here: get your rage rocks off by writing what you want to say to the ex in the comments section. Or just tell us your worst experience ever.