A short, belated Valetine's day fic I turned in as a warm up for AP English class.

It's not that I'm bitter or lonely this year, nor have I been in any of the years up until today. I've simply been preoccupied with my own awesome self, too busy to waste the time to buy someone's affection for a day. I won't bribe them with chocolates, I won't send them hollow greeting cards crammed with the words of another man, instead I will stand sentry in my house (my brother only pays the bills) and pretend that I couldn't care less.

The only person I'd even bother to acknowledge – if only as a friend – is married and happy with her husband (my cousin, now removed) in some other country. She's probably sitting on his fussy, satin loveseat, sipping dark, Austrian coffee and nibbling some sort of pastry as he plays her an original composition on his beloved piano. Meanwhile, I'm sitting on my brother's old sofa (covered in dog hair and smelling of sweat) with a beer in hand as I channel surf for anything unromantic enough to not make me gag. The opening scene of "Saving Private Ryan" explodes across the screen and makes me sigh. The television snaps off.

My brother is gone with that cute Italian, probably at the Olive Garden or wherever it is that they go. My two best friends are preoccupied with their own love lives, apparently so much more interesting than mine. However, my situation is not without its advantages. I spend no money, I waste little time, and I never fear rejection. I am myself and strong even if I am forever solitary. Valentine's day? Don't make me laugh.

So, yeah. Perhaps there's actually a brain somewhere under that Gilbird.