So it’s nearly Valentine’s Day.

Valentine’s Day is almost like Halloween’s evil twin. Sure, there’s candy, but you don’t give it out to strangers. I’m given to understand that there’s sexy costumes, but they’re only in private.

I say given to understand, because I have always been single on Valentine’s Day. Yep, never had a date on February 14th. It was last year when I realized the true implications of that fact; if I’ve always been single on Valentine’s Day, it means I’ve never been a relationship that lasted a full year.

I nearly made it once. I started dating a girl in March, and January neared its end, and things were … well, they were alright. But then, it was like something snapped in my head come February, like I subconsciously realized I was about to settle down in some way. I somehow managed to sabotage everything by February 10th, thus saving me a couple hundred dollars in lavish displays of affection.

Yeah, I’m kind of a dick, but at least I’m generous.

My brother is just like me. He’s never been anything but single on Valentine’s Day. You know, until this year.

He started dating a girl a few months back, and apparently, Stadelmann Brother Tradition isn’t enough to convince him to dump her.

Sure, she’s also cool, and smart, and has excellent taste in TV, and she’s definitely too good for him, so he needs to latch onto her like a barnacle on a boat, but that’s beside the point. If he doesn’t make a terrible mistake and dump her, then Sergeant Joey’s Lonely Heart Club is down to one member, and I know where my priorities lie.

With me, baby. With me.