Valentine's Day 2/14/2007 Margaret came in from the office when she heard me crying. I had been watching the build-up for weeks. Single people were holding anti-Valentines-Day parties. There was a "Valentines Day is a made-up holiday" party. There was talk of outrageously flirting with married couples to see who would break ranks. There was anger, angst, emo, all kinds of acting out. Underneath it all, I could hear that there were a lot of single people out there, a lot of single, lonely people. There was a lot of loneliness and self-pity and compensation going on. Recently I saw some statistics that indicated not only the number of, but also the proportion of single people was on the rise. Margaret and I had planned our Valentine's Day dinner weeks in advance. We had tickets to the 18th annual "Woo at the Zoo," a little party that would teach us to do it like animals. But it wasn't a surprise, and I felt that we were on a path of placid predictability. So when I woke up this morning, walked over to the dresser, and discovered that Margaret had a little surprise for me, I was overwhelmed. It was too cute, a dark chocolate bar with peppers and cherries in it, wrapped in a special-edition Valentines Day wrapper with a poem on the inside. She must have snatched it up the moment she saw it in the impulse buy display. The tears were tears of joy. I knew I was special. I knew I was loved. I hugged and kissed her as she appeared. Thank you, Margaret!