On our first Valentine’s Day, we planned to go out for dinner.
I curled my hair, put on a cute pink skirt with black and white hearts.
You knocked on my door with a white rose in hand.
We both looked at each other, deciding to stay in, order sushi and watch a movie.
I thought this was perfect, that we were defying all expectations.
We were beating the system, taking a corporate holiday, and telling it to go fuck itself.
But a part of me wished we would have decided to participate.
I mean I curled my hair after all.
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