Be my valentine...

Please? No? Oh okay.

I'm not here to bitch about valentine's day, my bitterness toward the tedious tradition has more or less vanished. Now I'm just curious and mature enough to admit that the bitterness stems from my jealousy of those who are lucky enough to have that significant other to make them feel special even if it is just for a day. Ever notice that is the one argument people use to criticise valentine's day - "why is there only one day dedicated to making your partner feel special? blahh blahh blahhhh". What's really wrong with that? If there can be a day dedicated to pancakes, why is the thought of a day dedicated to recognising and celebrating the love shared between two people so unbearable to some?
Now I've never had a valentine...ever (giving you a moment to all take that in and pick your jaws up from the floor after that shocking reveal ) I've just never been lucky enough to stay in a relationship long enough for valentine's day to come around. That, however doesn't mean that I lose hope and shrivel into a little, black ball of misery, I still get to enjoy the great sales on chocolates in stores, what more can I ask for? (A valentine)

Fool me once, shame on you

Fool me twice, shame on me...

I think we can all agree that an important element of living is learning from mistakes and experiences. However, this for most people can sometimes prove difficult. Take me for example, to say that I have made a plethora of mistakes would be an understatement and that is how I justify not learning from them which subsequently results in me having to repeat life's torturous lessons. It's a vicious cycle.

I used to be an excellent player in the blame game (heck- I still am). I don't usually brag but you know what they say- "it ain't braggin' if it's true". I say this because I frequently make mistake and frequently, I would have to blame someone else to make myself feel better; blame is one vile thing no one hopes to possess. My victims can range from public transport, to my brother or even the universe. With practice came perfection, perfection to the extent that even I believed my own shit (Excusez mon français). I started to think in a way that led me to believe that nothing was ever my fault and because of this, I felt powerless, I felt like I had no control; I took the back seat in my own life while letting everyone and everything else call shotgun.

As I grew, I realised that mistakes began to cost me more, a lot more. I could pass on the blame, but the pain wouldn't budge.Opening up and letting the wrong people in is one mistake that I incessantly make, I don't know what it is that makes it so easy for others to hurt me and leave me. I certainly don't know what it is that make me care any more or even worse, what makes me continue to care and forgive those who wouldn't do the same for me.

"I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love."

                        -Mother Teresa