My Valentine's Day, by Kate Johnson, aged...

Aged 11. Boys are icky. Urgh, I don't want a Valentine from them.
Aged 12. Wonder if any of the cute boys in my class will send me a card?
Aged 13. Why aren't there any cute boys in my class?
Aged 14. No, seriously.
Aged 15. So boys in general aren't icky, but all the ones I know in the specific are. Which is why none of them have sent me a card.
Aged 16. Who wants a Valentine's card anyway? It's all stupid crass commercialism.
Aged 17. Maybe if I cut my hair and lost a few pounds I'd get a card.
Aged 18. Or how about highlights?
Aged 19. Who cares about Valentine's cards? I'm so fabulous now I'm probably scaring them all away.
Aged 20. Why did I have to scare them all away? Valentine's Day sucks.
Aged 21. And there are all these smug couples being smug. Why would I celebrate a day devoted to smugness?
Aged 22. I'm going to spend the day with someone who does love me: the cat.
Aged 23. The cat died. On Valentine's Day. Did I not say this day sucked enough?
Aged 24. Success, a card! Shame I absolutely don't fancy him.
Aged 25. This year I'm absolutely not getting my hopes up.
Maybe.