Last year I spent my Valentine’s Day watching slasher movies and avoiding everyone I knew who was in a relationship. This year, I’ve decided to embrace the natural progression of Valentine’s Day stages. To add to this night of tears slowly dripping into my chocolate cake, I’ve put together a playlist that will help me get through it all.
Stage #1: DENIAL
Part A: This is my favorite stage because it’s when I blissfully dance around my room and convince myself that I am a Roman goddess who is too intelligent for a man. Who says I need a gentleman caller to have fun on Valentine’s Day? I have me, myself and chocolate cake.
To highlight this denial and thoughtless bliss, I’ll listen to Robyn’s “Dancing on My Own.” As I stand “in the corner / watching you kiss her / woah oh oh,” I spin around in my empty room with my arms spread out like wings and throw in all the interpretive dance moves that I never learned.
Part B: After I’ve tired myself out (which takes about two minutes), I’ll have dinner. On this special Valentine’s Day menu is chocolate cake with a side of Layne’s tears. I’m still in denial at this point (the tears are a bonus added later). I’ll listen to Two Door Cinema Club’s “Changing of the Seasons” because it has a catchy beat and I know all the words. While I loudly serenade myself, I’ll sing to all the invisible boyfriends I’ve never had that, “I’ve worn out all the reasons to keep on knocking at your door / could be the changing of the seasons / but I don’t love you anymore.”
Stage 2: PAINFUL PRETENDING
Eventually I’ll come down off the sugar high and realize the pain of being alone. (I’ll also have cramps from eating too much cake.) This means it’s time to do what I do best: pretend I’m someone I’m not. Since it’s a new stage, I’ll need a new genre of music. That’s right, it’s time for showtunes. If I was a character in a musical, I’d A) kick ass and B) relate closely to Tracy from Hairspray since I, too, am just a girl eager to dance and sing my way through Baltimore. As I sing solos such as “I Can Hear the Bells,” I’ll act out my wedding day, singing “I can’t contain my joy / ‘cause I’ve finally found the boy I’ve been missin’ / LISTEN / I can hear the bells.” Which boy is this, you ask?
George Ezra, of course. The British singer / songwriter who I fell in love with when he came to Chicago last April. We’re madly in love and he serenades me his heartfelt ballad “Over the Creek” because it’s the song he was singing when we first made eye contact.
Stage 3: ANGER
But alas, George never asked me on a date. (We did make eye contact, though, and I know he thinks about me often.) This realization at this point in the night will lead to anger…a lot of it. I’ll put on my combat boots, wipe off my tears and dance around to Fidlar’s “40oz. On Repeat.” Head-banging lyrics such as “And I don’t care at all / I’ll drink some alcohol” will have me kicking my combat boots (but careful not to pull a muscle) and playing air guitar. When the song slows into the chorus, I contemplate and connect all too much with “Everybody has somebody / everybody but me.”
Stage 4: DEPRESSION AND LONELINESS
Those lasting lyrics from Fidlar will eventually spin my anger into depression. As I finish my last air kick and guitar strum, I’ll fall to the ground, congratulating myself for doing physical activity for the day, but also tearing up from the fact that I’m completely alone this Valentine’s Day. This is when all the sad songs on my iTunes crawl out from the depths of where I’ve buried them. These songs are kind of like Punxsutawney Phil; they begrudgingly come out once a year just to confirm that it’s indeed cold outside and I’m still indeed single.
I’ll think of Nicholas Sparks movies such as Dear John and play “Set the Fire to the Third Bar” by Snow Patrol, pretending that I have a distant lover who looks up at the night sky and thinks of me. This segways nicely to Head and the Heart’s “Rivers and Roads.” Since I know all the words and the melody soothes my open wounds, I just can’t help but sing “Rivers and roads / rivers and roads / rivers ‘til I reach you.”
Stage 5: RECONSTRUCTION
But no matter how good I am at it, I know I can’t sit on the floor all night moping. I’ll need to play some women empowerment songs such as the light country tune “Follow Your Arrow” by Kacey Musgraves, the dance-worthy pop song “Fire and Gold” by Bea Miller and the early 2000 hit “So Yesterday” by Hilary Duff (she never goes out of style).
Stage 6: ACCEPTANCE
Finally I accept my loneliness and imminent future of becoming a famous cat lady. The previous songs from “reconstruction” will get me pumped up so much that I’ll need to dance again. I’ll do the robot to “Stronger” by Britney Spears, say “Bye Bye Bye” with the help of ‘N Sync and shout that “I Got Nerve” with Hannah Montana (may she rest in peace).
These stages will take place over the course of many hours, but I have plenty of songs (both of the sad and dance-worthy natures) to keep me company. If you’re going out for V-Day with your boo, then I wish you all the best.
Just kidding; I hate you all.