“We must make the boxes!” the elementary school teacher barked at the group of kindergartners sitting on the floor.

I was one of those students, and I nodded in agreement. We all nodded. The time had come to make the boxes.

Everyone was handed a shoe box and soon we were gluing construction paper, tissue, and newspapers on to them. A small rectangular hole was cut on the top. Some had glitter sprinkled on them while others had paper hearts affixed to the sides.

Valentine’s day was approaching and these were our mailboxes, eager to accept the valentines from our fellow students. Maybe a cherry flavor sucker would make its way in, if you were lucky. We lined them up on a table, ready for the big day.

The teacher implemented a classroom rule: you had to get every student a card. No skipping anyone.

Excited, my mom and I went to the grocery store and bought an inexpensive box of Valentine’s cards, designed for this very thing. They weren’t large at all, maybe 3 inches by 4 inches. My mom let me pick out the design I liked.

I went home, tore into the box, and wrote messages in each card to my classmates. Neatly, I printed their names on the outside of the envelopes and stuffed the cards in them.

I didn’t want to lick the glue and my kindergarten mind didn’t come up with the solution of running a damp sponge across the seal, so I stuck them in my book bag unsealed.

When I arrived at school, and the teacher gave the signal we could start stuffing the mailboxes, I realized in horror over half of my cards had fallen out of the envelopes. They weren’t in my book bag either.

Ridden with guilt and shame, I placed the empty envelopes into the Valentine’s day boxes.

Happy Valentine’s Day this year and happy Valentine’s Day next year.

Kitties say Happy Valentine's Day


3 months after meeting Russell.

Russell. Sigh. I loooove him.

I love the way he masticates his food

And wraps his soft hands around his fork.

I love the way his blue eyes gaze upon me,

And how he’s always in a fantastic mood.

It’s so cute how he sips his tea.

A hot cup to enjoy as the light fades to dark.

At night I lay besides him,

And listen to his breath.

In and out, up and down, rises his chest.

So sexy as I swell with adoration

My love for him crests.


9 months after meeting Russell.

Russell. I looooothe him.

His jaw flaps open as he smacks his food.

And his pale wussy hands clutch his knife.

Did not his parents tell him this was rude?

Morning, night, and day, he plods around

Dragging his feet along the ground,

consumed with being sullen.

He stares at me with those grotesque eyes,

Now orbs of aqua repulsion.

The way he slurps his tea makes me want to cry

Plus, he never leaves the tea bag in long enough to steep

He farts and breathes like an old pug while he sleeps.

And rolls around to steal the covers.

Until it becomes a crisis.

My irritation with him rises.


Ten months after meeting Russell.

It is over. Our love is done,

Withered up like a leaf on a tree at the beginning of winter, waiting to blow away in the frigid air.

No more will grow back as the roots of the tree have rotted, eaten by maggots and worms.

It is over. Our love is done.


Twelve months after meeting Russel

Joshua. Sigh. I looooooove him…