As a young child, frolicking through the blissful days of elementary school, Feb. 14 was a day to look forward to, full of glittery construction-paper hearts and chocolate kisses pasted to doilies and stuffed into make-shift mailboxes.

However, in my adolescent years and in those of my approaching adulthood, this once magical holiday has fizzled away into bitter nothingness.

Before I even began to ponder what it meant to like a boy more than simply wanting to chase him on the playground and sit next to him in class every once in a while, Valentine’s Day was a celebration of friendship, uncomplicated by the stress and strain of procuring a valentine of the human sort.

In elementary school, everyone was required to bring a little note and an accompanying piece of candy for each student in the class. These treats were divvied out at the beginning of the school day and ravenously unsheathed during an elongated lunch hour.

Everyone felt loved and content and all was right with the world.

Unfortunately, the times have changed. My peers and I have switched gears from fussing over what toys to bring to a play date to fussing over what clothes to wear on an actual date.

All I hear about Valentine’s Day is the misery that it brings as an obnoxious reminder to every sadly single person of how pathetic and miserable his or her life is.

What is this nonsense? No one actually wants a deeply romantic and attached relationship at 16 anyway. How can a holiday where the magnitude of adoration and affection from one person to another is shown by how big of a heart-shaped balloon or stuffed animal with an absurd message written on it is bought be taken seriously?

I propose that we revaluate our expectations on Valentine’s Day and adjust the theme to a celebration of friendship. At this point in my life, the promise of a strong, stressless friendship means a much greater deal than a superficial, lustful relationship that is only semi-permanent.