I wake up.
The date: Feb. 14, 2024.
The time: 4:45 a.m.
As I mutter curses to myself in disgust of the early hour, I stumble out of my bed and into a small, cramped kitchen. I can’t believe I’m up this early, but then again, it’s Valentine’s Day — and I’m on a mission.
I’m sorting through my fridge now. Various leftover condiments, several Uber Eats meals that I regretted the second I saw them on my doorstep and so on. After a few more seconds, I see what I’m looking for: croissant dough, a package of small sausages and some grape jelly.
Again, I’m reminded of how weird it is — the food, I mean. But it’s worth more than fifteen dollars.
Earlier that week, my friend — who happens to be single and also (hopefully) into me — told me that she didn’t have any Valentine’s Day plans. Coincidentally, she also informed me that she hadn’t found the time recently to make one of her favorite foods: pigs-in-a-blanket with grape jelly.
Upon hearing those two things, my plan became simple: Deliver those grape pigs-in-a-blanket to her doorstep before she woke up, but also not too late that they went cold.
“It’ll be such a romantic gesture,” I thought to myself. “I mean, who does this anyway? It will show that I listen, and also that I’m willing to make sacrifices for her (and getting up at 4:45 a.m. was indeed a sacrifice). She’s been showing signs she likes me for weeks, what could go wrong?”
Set comfortably in my delusional optimism, I began to work. And — after I was done with the pigs-in-a-blanket — I made a cup of coffee to boot.
Finally, after what felt like just a blink of time, the most important part of the morning came: the signing of the card.
It was appropriately friendly while also being flirty — but how should I end it?
“Sincerely?” No, that’s just a little cold.
“Love?” Too forward.
“Regards?” What the hell is this, a business meeting invitation? No.
Finally, after much strained deliberation, I settled on “your best friend” — primarily because “your friend” would have been just a little too weak.
Signing with hesitant excitement, I dropped off the card and food. Now, I just had to wait.
It was an anxious drive home — one that gave me the same muted elation that I thought criminals must feel fleeing crime scenes — but before I knew it, I was back and checking my phone.
Before long, my phone pinged. A message!
“omg thanks so much for the food! It’s LITERALLY my favorite. I mean, it’s just like you knew exactly how to make it! I wanted to get together so bad too but there’s something that came up. and tbh I think it’s kind of weird for friends to get together on valentine’s, you know? Hangout soon though!”
It seemed that the “ship” part of my situationship had just sailed. It had been a fun — although brief — journey.
Better luck next time.
Kaleb Blizzard is a philosophy sophomore and opinion writer for The Battalion.
