That time of the year

It's that time of the year again: the time when guys and gals in sweet embrace clog the hallways to us lonely weirdos that have to get to class. I can't say I dislike the 14th; it's a time when I see a lot of people at their happiest at the same time. Giving gifts and exchanging cards like it's a Christmas song, they profess to their dearest their affection through a shower of overpriced chocolate and cheesy Hallmark cards.

I also can't say that I'm not jealous of them either. I mean, unless you absolutely despise the thought of human comfort, it's only natural to feel envious of people that have the luxury of sharing it with somebody. I have two friends who had been going out for approximately six years. While meritorious in itself, it's even more commendable to their commitment that their parents are strictly opposed to them being together. "Star-crossed lovers", as Shakespeare described their dilemma. 

I've helped them get through their troubles by trying to figure out ways on how to quell the tension between the conflicted parties, distract their parents as they try to meet each other for a few seconds, and even acting as a look out for passersby that have a chance of catching them together. I wouldn't hesitate to help who I consider my two best friends again if the moment presents itself. I can feel the joy they get by just seeing each other face to face for mere moments instead of the cloak-and-dagger practices they employ to continue communication. It's almost addicting, yet the feeling of sorrow is always present. Their happiness always stings, as if it was a mockery of something I couldn't have.

Then I met somebody around eight months ago (I counted to make sure). From the moment her and I talked, it was easy. I didn't feel the usual insecurities I felt when talking to somebody I never met before. It was just a go ahead swing from the batter's box (what a terrible metaphor). Since we were both strangers that didn't even think about the possibility of hooking up, we were free to be truthful to each other. I readily told her my stories as a part time bodybuilder, ninja, and fresco artist while she captivated me with stories about her occasional werewolf hunting on the weekends.

As time went on by, the relationship then started to tread into serious levels, finally reaching marriage. Granted, it was in a MMORPG I barely played, but it was very symbolic, mind you.

But then, misunderstandings started to plague us. During a tough episode in my life, my behavior started to change for the worse. Irrational envy began to grow in me, which led to some petty misgivings on completely innocent people. Then, events took a turn for the worse that eventually led to me practically shutting out everybody that tried to communicate, including her. In hindsight, this was objectively one of the worst decisions I could have possibly made. I entirely acted on emotional impulse and did not think of the ramifications that could develop from my illogical move.

The whole point of this entry is to express my sincerest apology for being an irrational dick out of nowhere. It wasn't right of me to shut you out because of matters that didn't even affect you. It isn't justifiable for me to claim to be "compromised by emotions". It's a terribly lazy excuse to even be thought of.

Now I hardly think that it'll be that easy for me to get back to the way things were before. I'm a realist, and I hope that at the very least that we can still be friends. I'd hate to actually lose who I'd consider to be my closest confidant for the past several months.

So yeah. I remember promising you a sign way back then, and I inexcusably never got to make one. So, for the past two to three days, I've been practicing my sketches so I can finally transcend the "stick figure" level and actually make a somewhat barely comprehensible sign:

I know you said it wasn't your thing to be all emotional and stuff, so I'm sorry for that one as well. I just hope you take the time to consider my apology. Good night and Happy Valentines day, you.