I am my Own Valentine

If my narcissistic math is correct, for the first time in 8 years, I am my own valentine. And I don’t mean to get all faux encouraging final paragraph of the last chapter of a half-off self help book in a back bin in the one Barnes and Nobles that has not Closed, but: happiness and contentment fueled NOT by romantic love, but just by love from family, from friends, and from self, feels pretty freaking great.

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