Thankfully everyone looked ill and unattractive on Wednesday. I have acquired a few new bruises, not from domestic abuse or vigorous lovemaking, but from slipping on the frozen tundra. Now another Valentine’s Day has come and gone. In silver crayon, it read: “You are the blade to my knife.” It seems that men just don’t show that kind of devotion these days. The sweetest Valentine I ever received was written on a jagged half heart of black construction paper.
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