Why are single people mopey this time of year?

Mopey cartoon character by Niall Eclles.

Personally, I’m single, and I don’t get it; I love everything about today! There’s better films on telly, chocolate gets reeeaaally cheap, and my couple-friends are all so happy… call me cheesy but I just think it’s great.  

I love the thought that, right now, someone’s boyfriend is becoming a fiancée, a friendship is becoming something more and some girl is being chased through an airport by the Man of her Dreams, about to pour ‘the speech’ out to her before it’s too late. Then, of course, they’ll kiss in slow motion and the music playing in the background will become famous forever. (Okay, so maybe that’s too many romantic comedies over the past few days talking there… but, still, see what I mean about better telly?)

Seriously though, I was walking through the street this morning and the amount of loved-up couples I saw actually made my day: a little boy buying the cutest teddy I ever saw from one of the many big-red-heart-plastered shops with an adorably shy look on his face, an old couple holding hands with stupidly huge grins on their faces, despite the fact that they’d probably been doing the exact same thing for the last fifty valentines days before and a woman with an, obviously forced, nonchalant expression who kept glancing at the sparkling ring on her left hand – she looked like she just wanted to skip.

But then I looked at my phone.

 One of my not-so-happily single best friends, Kerry, had texted me about how she was going to be spending the day alone with Ben, Jerry and lots of tears, and one of my male friends, Ryan, was freaking out about what he could get his girlfriend of seven months for under £15, that made it look like he had indeed not forgotten what today was. I felt for them, I really did, but was this stress needed?

Kerry was single every other day of the year. She watched devastatingly soppy movies like the rest of us, drooling over Prince Charmings and crying when the heroines did — she dreamed of having what they had; so why the resentment towards real people who have it in real life? When people are in love, and want to shout it from the rooftops, they have this one day a year when it’s (sort of) acceptable. If you would if you could, then don’t hate those who do.

Ryan’s girlfriend loves him for him and his, I quote, “charming head-in-the-cloud syndrome”, and no doubt she’ll love the apology dinner and not-so-sweet dessert that will get him out of it later.. if you know what i mean. So did they really need to join a Facebook petition to ‘ban the miserable and sinful festival that is Valentine’s Day and introduce Singles Awareness Day’? Because when i checked my phone again a few hours ago, Kerry had received three red roses from an elusive Secret Admirer and Ryan had had lots of sex.

Reading my other messages I realised that, though I’m single, I’d very much looked forward to this Valentine’s Day. I’d enjoyed hearing everyone’s plans, laughing at some, helping to pick out gifts and giving pep-talks to friends so that they wouldn’t sign their cards anonymously. Honestly, I’ve never known so many people to be so happy on the same day. And it was also buy-one-get-one-free on those little candy love hearts.