For once, I've gone quite easy on Valentine's Day. I've controlled myself from ranting, raving and popping every heart-shaped balloon I've walked past this year, but this may be because I'm in a total emotional daze. I've been through an absolutely horrific break-up in the last few weeks, and quite frankly, I've lost all energy to be angry at loved-up people.
I'm okay now, so no sympathy required, but let me tell you - it ain't easy breaking up at this time of year. When you can't physically turn on This Morning for all the lovey-dovey features, when you can't walk past a shop without feeling physically sick, it's tough, but I'm not vengeful in the sense that I want it all to stop. I'm happy for everyone that has someone, someone to spoil, someone to shower with love and naff trinkets - hell, so do I. But I've never quite been comfortable with the thought of a day dedicated to love, or at least just the one of the 365 days in the year.
Does this mean what we think it means, Ali? Have you gone soft on us?
No, of course not, which you'll be pleased to hear. I'm simply letting this year roll past without a care, reposting every hilarious Valentines meme there is. How could a history geek not love this? I'll be sending the Mao one to someone someday, I will.
So what I'm really trying to say is, happy Valentine's day! If you have someone to spend it with, give 'em your last Rolo. And if you don't have anyone, give me your last Rolo.
Okay, you can go back to scrolling through the endless Valentine's posts filled with soppy pictures of bloggers and their partners, red lipsticks and chocolates. I sure will be.