You walk in to the coffee shop. You dust the snow off your jacket, stomp your feet on the rug and hope, no pray that the barista has a fresh pot of your favorite coffee made. It has been literally the worst day of the year. It's always the same day, February 14th. The day where everyone else seems so happy and carefree as they celebrate their love and how unique and fresh it is. It wouldn't be so bad, but after twenty three years of spending that particular "holiday" alone, you'd rather just forget the whole ordeal. Of course, he calls every year to see how you are, as if you don't already have the most painful and awkward reminder of him on that day. That was after all, the day you were shot down in high school and told you'd never have a shot. You glance at your phone hoping desperately that he would forget, that he wouldn't call you at exactly 9:17 p.m. to wish you a happy Valentine's Day, ask about your love life, ad then spend twenty minutes talking about how fabulous his new boyfriend is or how he loves New York City and that they need to get together, all the while knowing that's a lie and neither of you will ever make an effort to actually "get together." You reminisce about the one time you tried to get together and how awkward and painful it was. He and Adam, his latest boyfriend had broken up, and he was being pursued by his dickwad of an ex-boyfriend into getting back together. And you wanted the floor to swallow you up, so that you didn't have to hear another long ass rant about how stupid boys were and how he should just stay single and focus on work. Of course you would never be an option, given the history and the fact that you tried to kill yourself and he felt sorry for you.

And that first year the call comes at 9:17 p.m. You pick up the phone and listen. He doesn't sound perky or cheery. In fact he sounds like the life has been sucked out of him. You know something is very wrong and you can't help but ask if he needs anything from you. He says he really does need to see you. You falter, because that is not what you were prepared to give him and he lives in New York City and you live in Lima. You take down the address anyway. You realize he's in Lima and at the hospital. You take a cab and your heart begins to race, you think something has happened to him.

Then you find him sitting in the waiting room. Carole and Finn are there. You know what is happening. Burt has taken a turn for the worse. Kurt told you about the cancer. You listened for hours as he cried. He never wanted to talk about it again. You got the information from Finn. You sit down by him.

The news comes hours later, he is okay. The bone marrow worked. You hold him as he cries into your shirt. You tell yourself you don't feel anything for him as those feelings stir inside your chest. You know you're lying.

He goes back to New York City. He sends you flowers a few weeks later as thanks.

You don't hear from him for another year. He calls again the next Valentine's Day at 9:17 p.m. He's back in Lima. It becomes routine. You meet up for coffee and always leave at precisely 10:17 p.m.

This year you figure it will be the same. You shuffle your feet anxiously. It is now 9:18 p.m. and he hasn't called.

Your heart sinks. You get your coffee and go to the back. You see him sitting at your normal table.

He gets up and looks at you. He smiles and beckons you to the table.

He tells you he has missed you and that he has been thinking about you for a while. You smile like a fool. You tell him you missed him too. Conversation is good. You watch the clock anxiously counting down the minutes.

When 10:17 comes you expect him to put his coat on and walk away. He tells you he thinks you should abandon the clock.

You breathe a sigh of relief. You have a good conversation. He seems interested in what you have to say.

Things get better. He calls more than Valentine's Day. When he comes into town to visit his family, he sees you.

Then he gets the call that his Dad is in remission. He doesn't have cancer anymore.

You meet up.

He hugs you enthusiastically and you don't even bother trying to deny it.

Then he's kissing you and your worlds tilts on its axis and you realize what you had always missed.

You know you're in that feeling alone. Until you aren't.

The following Valentine's Day after some hot, but slightly awkward make out sessions, he calls you at 9:17 p.m.

He asks you out.

Maybe Valentine's Day isn't all that bad you think.