Valentine's day, late 90's. I was sitting in a motel room next to the freeway in the California Desert lamenting my lame truckdriving job but thinking about the woman 1100 miles (1800km?) away that I thought was interested in me.
Instead she was on a flight to Las Vegas with her boyfriend to get married. I found out. Met the guy, he was cool, and ended up helping him get a job where I worked. He got fired eventually for poor performance and just doing alot of reckless driving. They both fell into a meth problem, ended up unemployed and living apart or from relative to relative in attics, basements, and trailers (caravans).
They had physical confrontation issues, money issues, health issues, everything that goes along with a dysfunctional relationship.
I'd get calls every six months or so from her inviting me to lunch or to just hang out. I'd go see her, she'd relate a bunch of turmoil, hint around about needing several hundred dollars for a car payment, or money for a rent deposit or who knows what. Her 'husband' would be off tweaking somewhere, skinny, unwashed, with meth lesions all over his body. Great scene to say the least.
I quit giving her money and quit doing favors for her. Haven't seen her in years, don't know what happened to him. In fact the last time I saw her she was needing gas money to drive a pick-up, with expired tabs (license) to go buy cigarettes at a discount tribal smoke shop. Pathetic.
I also quit truckdriving, went to college (university) and finished my degree and doubled my salary.
I'll never forget that Valentine's Day, but only because I will use it as an inspiration to improve my situation further. No, no girfriend now, but it'll happen because I will work to make it happen.