If you’re a close friend of mine, then you might get to brag that you were there the night I had the craziest Valentine’s ever. And while there may be many memorable Valentine evenings in my past, this one stands out as the worst for me. It was also a turning point which allowed me to make a decision about moving on.
So it must be written, but please note that this took place about 10 years ago and I’m a very different person now than I was back then. For example; then I was the Road Manager for a rock band and now I’m a Customer Service Manager for a corporate agency. A bit of a different lifestyle — just sayin’.
To get an idea of where I was at this particular Valentine’s Day, here’s the set up.
I had just found out that my boyfriend of almost 3 years was cheating on me with a mutual friend and I had very recently broken it off with him. I was out (with friends) on Valentine’s Eve trying my best to drink away my sorrow.
Now I know that drinking this particular night probably wasn’t the smartest idea ever. I even thought that at the time, but I was young and dumb. The lure of numbing my feelings with Vodka and my friends’ persuasion won out so I decided “Eff this!” and kicked off my Valentine’s party at full tilt.
We headed straight to the bar (I’m not sure which one, nor did I care) and all I can remember is dancing, drinking, and a blur of men hanging around. We’re doing shots and partying all over and the next thing I know, I’m in a strange car on my way to a party… I think.
Yep, we arrive at a house party (about an hour and a half away from my home), it`s packed with people I don’t know, and there are couples kissing everywhere. Damn!
I’m pretty sure my head wasn’t screwed on straight the entire night. It felt like I was just floating along on a cloud and everything seemed to be covered in a haze. Detached is how I seemed at the time. I was devastated and heart-broken but determined to move forward in every way, so I just kept partying. Like a robot, really.
I have to say that my friends were trying really hard to keep things light for me. They were keeping track of me and making sure I was ok, but I could tell that I was quickly turning into a Valentine’s mess. I couldn’t stop it from coming. I was just floating along in my mind, I got too drunk, and found myself lost and confused in too many ways.
The pinnacle of that party is when I burst into sobbing tears in front of everyone and took off running. Yep… I ran. I had no shoes on and I just took off, like a blur. From a house in a city where I wasn’t familiar with anything. Worse yet, it’s 4am in the morning, it’s cold, and I have no jacket.
I had no idea where I was going, but I knew I had to sob hard and run away fast. My urge to move forward and to push my bad feelings out was SO strong and I was way too drunk for any rational thought.
That’s when I was grabbed from behind by a big muscled guy. He spun me around and dragged me back to the party kicking and screaming at him the entire way. My friends (are good friends) who weren’t about to let me take off like that. I found out that they sent him after me because we weren`t in the nicest of neighborhoods (thank god for good friends).
So I found myself back in the party once again. Black make-up smeared all over my face and reminders of Valentines Hell all around me. It seemed like there were even more couples kissing and smiling and laughing than before.
Out of nowhere, a familiar feeling… Yep. That urge to run is back. And it’s even stronger. Only this time, I’m smarter. Because I’m even more determined.
I pretended to get it together a little (so as not to arouse more suspicion) and I gathered my shoes, jacket, and purse. It was tricky because I was seeing double, but I was working it out pretty well, considering. I then stole my girlfriend’s phone and found a quiet corner at the party to make a call I hadn’t made in years.
A drunken, puffy-eyed, me slurs/sobs into the phone, “Mom… Can you pick me up? I don’t know where I am… Here’s a stranger to tell you…” and I hand the phone to a random passer-by. Well, it worked because when the phone came back to me, my Mom told me she’d be there in an hour and a half. OMG – Thanks Mom & some random guy!
I have to say, the next hour and a half felt like an eternity. I spent the entire time sitting there all sad, watching all the couples, bursting into tears, and taking off.
I know I took off at least 2 more times because I can remember the big, muscled guy was getting madder and more stern each time he had to chase me down. I gotta say though, I was pretty darn determined.
Finally, I snuck off to the bathroom and managed to get out the front door without anyone noticing. I was free! And as if it was meant to be, my ride came along with perfect timing. My mom found me down the street about 2 blocks away looking like hell, wobbling around with a wine cooler in my hand, and tear-stained cheeks and clothes.
Thank god for my Mother. She didn’t even question driving to get me that far away at 6am in the morning and it was a huge relief to finally see her. I collapsed into the front seat of her car and called my friends to tell them that I was ok and that I was going home now. My personal Valentine’s hell was finally over.
The next day was when a funny thing happened to me. After all that (and a killer hangover), I reflected upon the events of that evening and I realized something important.
No cheating ass man is worth the amount of trauma I caused myself that Valentine’s Eve. Suddenly, I snapped out of it and realized that he wasn’t worth another tear to me. I was done. I couldn’t take any more and I wasn’t going to fall prey to bitterness about it anymore either. He had done enough damage.
It was because of this night that I began the long process of healing and moving forward. I really believe that something was pushing me forward that night (literally) and I saw the true purpose of that more clearly as I reflect back.
In the four years after this, I worked hard to build myself up and to gain the proper respect that I should have had for myself to begin with. Now, I’m no longer a drinker (so this situation would be unlikely to ever repeat), but it brought about a lesson that I will never forget.
No man is worth that much heart-ache, not even on Valentine’s Day. Forgive (for yourself), pick your head up (as best you can), and move forward. You deserve it.
Now I’ve shared mine, but now I have to know. What’s your craziest Valentine? Feel free to share below.