It's February 14
I am sitting in my room alone again,
Staring out at the beautiful colours painting the outside world.
The glowing sun touches my skin, telling me I should not be there.
But I was.
The television was blaring some romance film I didn't care about.
There was a fine tune playing about love. About happiness. About companionship. About friends.
And suddenly the walls screeched at me, a scream so silent yet powerful.
It was yelling at me, to not be there alone. To be with someone.
But I can't.
I was sitting on a half of a love seat, still wishing for someone to sit next to me.
My arms were desperately searching for someone to hold on to.
I felt the need of a proper embrace again, one I had not felt for a long time.
I wished I could caress someone on my chest.
I wished I could find a human pillow to lie on.
We'd talk, forever and ever.
To most, this is a day to celebrate the love.
To me, it is a day to celebrate loneliness.
It is a lone Valentine.