Why I hate Valentines Day(and it isn't Valentine's fault)

I haven't blogged in awhile. That's because around this time of year, I always lose my mind a little bit worse than usual. Ask John. He has to live with it. I don't want to put this out there to garner sympathy, though that is always welcome if you want to give it. It's just that if I am going to blog to let you know our family, you may as well see a few of our warts too. This is one of mine. I hate Valentine's Day. I dread it, in fact. There, it's out. Now nobody will send me cards. If you want to know why(if you don't already know), it's because I watched my late husband kill himself on February 13th. I should be over it by now, I suppose, but I'm not. I am purposefully not hiding out from everyone so close to this day, as I normally would, because I figure that if I start doing things a little differently, maybe I'll start feeling differently/better when this day comes around every year. I don't know if it'll work, but I hope it will. Sorry if this is laying a little too much on you. I love you all.