A Valentines Story

When does the good stuff start?

Only a handful of hours remain before Valentine ’s Day lands a left-hook to my unguarded, bruised loneliness, so I figured until then I’d fight to the very last minute, and write a nice little romance story  as a part of my three two-part Valentines Event. Because deep beneath my jaded outer shell beats the tender heart of a man. You chicks dig that, right?

The Movies

“Say something.” Drilling to myself. “Just say something - anything, she’s coming.” And I did.

“Hi” I squeaked.

I get a glance, and then nothing. I quickly drag my eyes over her head and face the crowd behind her. Heart thumping, I send a blind smile into the emptiness, praying someone would receive it on the other end. She casually walks by, and a sigh of relief exits as I think to myself “Thank Fuck.”

As the familiar smell of used tissue and dried urine flooded my nose, I felt a sense of comfort as I strolled into the men’s bathroom, “I should be a bloody ninja,” I thought, “too bad I couldn’t get her attention though.” “Next time” I assured myself, “next time, I’ll do it.”

You see, I had always been the lonely guy on Valentine's Day. Hell, I'd been the lonely guy every other day as well. But this year was going to be different. This year, I was determined. This year, against all of my better judgment, I was going to ask Sara Haruko to be my Valentine.

Sara was a girl in my Japanese class, or rather; she was the girl in my Japanese class. She had long crimson hair, which shone 20 different hexadecimal values. And her plump eyes were a gorgeous shade of ocean blue that you wouldn't mind drowning in, covered by a sleek set of rose-coloured glasses. Also, she was a 34 D.

That day, butterflies of ‘holy crap wtf are you thinking’ flitted about inside my stomach as I walked to an early morning class. I mean, I'd talked to Sara once before. She asked me what time it was and I told her... What? Was I just going to walk up to her and say "Hi! You don't know me, but I've pictured you naked on several occasions. Be my Valentine?" Though the thought crossed my mind on occasion, it was quickly stabbed before it could evolve into an actual idea.

Meanwhile, I was ready. A few days before I overheard Sara mention something about a trailer for some vampire film, and I wasn’t about to let that slide. I entered the ticket office, "Hey, can I have two tickets to Twilight please?" I asked in my particularly good Christopher Walken impression. The lady let out a small sigh, reached under the counter and yanked out two slices of paper.
"That'll be £30" she said matter-of-factly. It was a matter of fact, so that made sense. Still, fuck.
I reluctantly fished a twenty and a ten pound note out of my wallet and paid the woman’s exorbitant price. Our business completed, I flipped her off and ran.

As I continued back to the union, where I was certain my soon-to-be soul mate would be, I peered at my watch only to realize I didn’t have long to ask Sara out, I had to do it soon. I briskly walked to a nearby store and grabbed a can of her favourite beverage, “This’ll do it.” I muttered to myself. 

Finding Sara wasn't difficult. A mob of much better-looking guys surrounded her, armed with every romantic gift known to man. Chocolates, jewellery, stuffed bears, and bouquets so large they made me feel self-conscious. If I was going to have even the slightest chance with her, I needed to make my move now. I marched through like I was Mel Gibson from What Women Want. It was finally my turn to shine. “Sara, I…”

I froze.

Round blue eyes and a querying gaze faced me.  As I glanced down; a hand wraps firmly around her curved hips, “Yes?” I hear.

Tears began to flood my eyes. “I’m sorry” I say, “thought you were someone else.” I turn and walk, ashamed, pathetic.

Later that night, back in my room, I lie in bed and replayed that awful moment over and over, clenching my fist in humiliation. “Why?” I tell myself, “Why can’t things just, work?” I turn to my side, saddened. 

“Who knows” I say to myself. But one thing was determined that night, "Twilight is a shit film."