Love, Idjits.

​I'm going to get a little bit personal here for a second. Okay, maybe more than a second. And yes, I want to talk about love today.
People keep on writing about being a ditchable prom date; "this day isn't for me. I'm alone." Hold my beer, you idjits.

Somebody loves you, somebody cares. But everyone's an idjit some of the time. I'm an idjit, too.

Some idjits close their mouths and never say how they feel. Some look down at their empty hands instead of offering them in friendship or brotherhood. And some of these idjits try to drive Baby all the way home in reverse instead of looking forward. I've done all these things, because I'm a natural-born idjit.

You are loved. Somone cares. You are not "alone" on Valentine's Day. Idjits are all around, being their idjit selves and thinking no one cares about them because they're not out on dates or whatever. 

But love isn't about dates or even figs, idjits. There are so many ways to love and be loved it's damn near idjit-iotic. Own your feelings. Embrace your inner idjit. 

We're in this folly together, you know the one: the folly of assuming no one cares because the trappings aren't there. Don't let those red roses and pink ribbons snare you like you stepped in a bucket of syrup. Yes, we're all idjits. And that's what makes us human, what lets us love, and what makes us loveable. 

Now get out there and tell your friends you love them. Your family, too, if you're lucky enough to have them. Here, let me start.

I love all of you idjits. You make this world better just by being in it.