I struggle with this every year, my live-and-let-live ideals warring with my why-can't-you-assholes-shut-the-fuck-up-already personality.
The thing is, Valentine's Day is completely artificial. It was created as a way to sell stuff, one of the first really successful marketing ploys in modern history. Nobody ever really celebrated it, it was just another saint-day in a calendar crowded with saint-days, until some enterprising retailers got the idea of introducing it into Anglo-American society via department stores and gift-shops.
But what roasts my nuts is that this artificial holiday taps into one of our most basic instincts, the need to mate. Actually, it's not even just this holiday... the entire Hollywood/Mad-Ave matrix has discovered our ultimate weakness, the desire to mate, and it has manipulated that weakness to fuel a gazillion-dollar industry.
We live in a world in which movies and TV shows and books always end with happily-ever-after... meaning that everyone ends up with a mate (all the good people, anyway); but in that same world, the actual overwhelming majority of us are unmated or badly mated.
Essentially, our art does not imitate our lives, rather it (because it's driven by profit incentive) makes us dissatisfied with our lives.
And that just fucking pisses me off. I only hope that if I ever do have a boyfriend in my life, that I remain pissed off and don't get suckered into the matrix. Because that would mean all my righteous indignation was nothing but sour grapes.