A year ago today I got a baker’s dozen roses delivered to my door. This year, same man packed his bags and flew out of my life for the fourth and final time, just last Friday.

Before last year, whenever I was single on February 14 (which was nearly every year), I was a Valentine’s Day grinch. Bah humbug. Every fluff story on the news, every store display, every heart shaped balloon and chocolate was a slap in the face designed to make me feel terrible because I had no one special in my life.

So, you’d think I’d be a puddle of tears today, seeing as I got dumped four days ago. You’d think I’d be shutting myself in my apartment with a pint of ice cream and a bottle of scotch. You’d think I’d be listening to J. Geils Band and Billie Holliday. You’d think I’d be tweeting a series of failings of my ex-lover in pithy passive aggressive tones each hashtagged with #fuckvalentines. Believe me I considered it. I wrote the tweets, then I deleted them.

A funny thing happened on the way to this breakup though. I moved over to Vancouver, my boyfriend moved in with me soon after, and I got depressed. I stopped running or working out. I stopped writing my blog. I stopped writing poetry. I gained 10 pounds. I stopped wanting to go out.

“You’re just nesting,” one friend said.

“Maybe I’m grieving for my life in Victoria,” I said at one point.

But I couldn’t shake the blues. I was depressed and had been since last November. Then on Friday he left. I reclaimed my closet space, and my dining room table, and my diet (that much red meat really is NOT good for a person), and my running, and my sanity. I hadn’t even realized I lost it.

Every day since last Friday feels better than the day before. As a matter of fact, I can’t remember the last time I felt this hopeful and free.

So no – I will never begrudge Valentine’s Day again. I have no need to. I am happy the way I am: single. I haven’t been so fine with being single since I got divorced twelve years ago. Being single is so much better than being in a relationship that makes me depressed.

I did have a “date” with a friend tonight, who can’t make it because she’s sick. So I’ll probably just go enjoy my favourite neighbourhood restaurant by myself (mmm tikka masala). I’ll eat some ginger chocolate, and I will love myself, because I am my own Valentine.