February 18, 2000

So there I was, checking the mail on Monday, sorting out the pre-approved credit card offers from the collection of bills when I saw a red envelope with familiar handwriting I never expected to see again.

Even though I haven’t spoken to her in more than two years, Monica felt the need to send me a valentine.

Granted, it was just a simple card that said “Thinking of you on Valentine’s Day” with one of those cute photos on the front where the kids are in black-and-white but the roses are magically colored red, but it was still a valentine.

The last time I talked to Monica was in November of ’97 when she ended things after realizing that she just didn’t like me anymore.

So why now?

That was the question that was still on my mind when Chet came home from class and saw me sitting stunned on the couch, staring blankly at the TV.

“Hey, how’s it going?” he asked before noticing what channel I had stalled on. “Hey, uh, why are you watching the Ames High Science Bowl?”

“Monica sent me a valentine.”

“Which one was Monica?”

I hate when he does that. Just because he’s been dating Sydney since Velcro was cool and Aerosmith was writing decent songs, he likes to rub it in my face that my relationships never seem to last.

“You know which one she was.”

“Was she the one who never called you back?”

“That was Chelli.”

“The one whose name you didn’t know for the first month you dated?”

“Nope. Nikki. Think back between the two.”

“Oh, right. Monica. What did she have to say?”

I told him, for some reason, she was thinking of me on Valentine’s Day. Or three to five days before, depending on the postal service.

Chet was confused too. When we told Eddie about my unusual piece of mail, he just laughed and told me we should send honest valentines to all former girlfriends.

“Think about it,” he explained. “We’ll start our own company and come up with ‘Tough Love’ greeting cards. If a chick dumps you for another guy, you send her a card that says ‘Through it all, I hope we can still be friends’ on the outside. Then when she opens it up, she reads ‘Just like your new boyfriend and his ex, seen here making out last night’ with a Polaroid attached. We’ll make millions.” Eddie’s always been a businessman.

Then we came up with a few more just for fun.

For the girl who cheated on you: “Hope your Valentine’s Day is filled with love.” Then on the inside: “Just like your dorm room, every weekend I was out of town.”

For the guy who never found time to spend with his girlfriend: “I’ll always cherish every special moment we spent together.” On the inside: “All three of them.”

And for the generic relationship gone sour: “What we had was special and I’ll never forget about you.” On the inside: “After all, I’ve gotta empty the trash sometime.”

Call us cynical, but we had a lot more fun making up ways to express our bitterness than we did trying to find romantic hope in a card sent by a girl who dumped me two years ago.

While there are girls that each of us have dated that we’re still really good friends with, she’s just not one of them.

So as Chet shook his head in disgust at his single roommates, we sat down at the computer and started designing a card for Monica.

Mirroring the message she sent me, it read “Thinking of you on Valentine’s Day” on the front. And on the inside? “And damn glad that I’m here and you’re there.”

It may sound a bit spiteful, but if Eddie and I go into business, that brutal honesty might pay off big.

And after all, she started it.