a valentine’s day for one

solo date, quiet observations, and the art of returning to yourself

i’ve been in hiding. or more accurately, working full time and pretending that’s not slowly rearranging my entire personality.

as i already confessed in my previous blog, the reason why people haven’t heard from this bitch since early january is adulting 101. working again. being serious about responsibilities. waking up and realizing your brain now belongs to schedules, kpis, and survival mode instead of random creative urges at 2am.

the biggest change honestly was my “me time.” before, i would spend hours reading on substack like it was oxygen. now my brain just wants to be entertained without effort. movies. series. endless watching. something about watching feels easier after work, like my brain just wants to be carried instead of thinking. and yes, watching makes me sleepy, which is exactly what my exhausted body wants most days. it’s complicated because i know reading and writing are the things that make me feel like myself, but lately i’ve been choosing softness and rest instead of depth and reflection. and somehow that made me feel guilty toward the version of me who loved blogging so much. like i abandoned her a little.

i didn’t want to pressure myself to come back though. forcing creativity feels fake. but then valentine’s day happened. and suddenly all my thoughts felt loud again. like they were knocking on my skull saying “hello?? we belong to your keyboard.” so here i am, quietly sitting back down with myself again instead of making a dramatic comeback announcement.

on valentine’s day, i decided to date myself. intentionally. not a sad lonely thing, not a coping mechanism, just curiosity. i went to chingkeetee, a local teahouse here in my city. first time going there alone. first time putting myself in an intimate place without anyone as emotional backup. i felt romantic that day, listening to drive (album) by bic runga like i was the main character of a slow indie film about a girl figuring her life out in soft lighting.

the place itself felt warm, vintage, almost like someone’s home. very romantic energy everywhere. bouquets on tables. couples holding hands. soft conversations floating around. and yes, i didn’t have flowers on my table. i tried convincing myself to buy one but it didn’t feel right. i’m not a flower person. or maybe i prefer eye contact more than petals. which sounds crazy but it’s true. and ironically, i got so many long eye contact moments from strangers that day. like more-than-three-seconds kind of eye contact. i wasn’t ready for that level of cinematic interaction but i was also secretly delighted.

the day almost didn’t happen because it rained for an hour right after i clocked out. a very romantic, dramatic rain. i waited it out because i told myself valentine’s day does not happen on the 15th. i may be delulu but even i, know deadlines exist. plus cancelling plans just because of rain feels so unserious when umbrellas and transport exist. sorry but that’s a personal rant.

and yes, i accidentally became a professional couple watcher.

i saw all types. new love couples, obviously the most romantic to watch. the kind where everything feels extra. i’m a little materialistic when it comes to valentine’s day, not gonna lie. seeing gifts besides flowers somehow makes the love feel louder. doesn’t matter if it’s cheap or expensive, the effort itself feels like proof of emotion. maybe that’s why i ended up thrift shopping after my self date. influence is real.

there were also mature couples, the quiet comfortable ones who barely spoke but looked like they understood each other without effort. awkward couples who didn’t know what to say yet. extra couples performing romance like it’s a public event. and honestly, even when things felt cringe, i was still curious what it feels like to experience that kind of day with someone. but at the same time, most people were just… normal. business as usual. not everyone treats valentine’s day like a romcom climax, which made me laugh internally because the internet makes it feel like a life-or-death event.

did any couple make me feel soft or hopeful? honestly… no. i mostly felt like a narrator watching scenes unfold while half my attention was on desperate housewives episodes playing on my phone. very on brand behavior. it’s safe to say that i pulled a mary alice that day.

but what surprised me the most was how much i genuinely enjoyed my own company. i wasn’t pretending. i wasn’t filling silence with distractions. i was just… there. and it proved something simple: being alone doesn’t automatically mean being lonely. both are choices. that day, i chose to be alone and it felt like choosing myself. i felt loved, special, and calm in a way that didn’t depend on anyone else.

work has been draining me lately. overthinking kpis feels like emotional cardio nobody asked for. constantly analyzing performance until the next day is exhausting, and yes, i know everyone has bigger problems but this is my blog and 60% of it is ranting so let me live. sometimes it feels like i didn’t even choose this experience fully. it’s just life saying “you’re not rich or a nepobaby so here you go, bitch.” harsh but real.

because of work, i lost my reading habit. gained the habit of staying comfortable instead. craving sleep. watching more. listening more than thinking. it’s not entirely bad but sometimes i miss how light my life felt before all these responsibilities stacked up. maybe that sounds immature but honesty has always been my brand here. i do feel growth somewhere underneath all of it, but mostly i feel like i’m surviving and adjusting at the same time.

watching couples taught me something unexpected though. love is a daily choice. and maybe instead of always craving comfort at home when i’m stressed, i should also crave a different kind of stress. like getting lost finding cafés during solo dates. stressing about directions instead of deadlines.

right now, i’m craving both connection and distance. connection with myself, understanding how i want to be loved and treated. but also enjoying the quiet space that comes with doing things alone. this year’s valentine’s day felt different because i actually showed up in the world instead of staying home and clearing my romance watchlist on letterboxd like the previous years. and by the way, i’ve watched valentine’s day (2010) when i got home before bed to start a new tradition every year. that might change into gone girl though, who knows.

dating myself felt like a life changing decision, but i also wonder how long i will enjoy it this much. will there be someone who makes me experience the coupled version of this someday? i don’t know.

and i never asked myself this question before, but i will ask you this now:

would you date yourself?

xoxo,

aster

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