Dear February,

Dear February,

         There are people who love you and there are people who love to hate you, but no matter what it is it’s always in the condition of love. As for me, I’m in between, and I don’t care. Your month felt more than one day less, despite it having been Leap Year. 

         I don’t remember much about you; other than you, making feel a little more alone. However, I did find the courage to talk to someone new. Giving what your month represents, you would love her.

         Though my heart aches for we have never actually met. Our conversations has never extended over the walls of chatrooms and comment boxes.

So tell me Master of Love, why connect us but build a barrier between her and I.

         Believe it or not, I didn’t spend Valentine’s Day alone. The day was spent with a cup of coffee, cigarettes, and a friend. We talked about lovers past, and the scars that they left that we must carry. The question of the night: Will we ever heal?

I read three books this month:

Midnight in Mexico – Alfredo Corchado
A Bright Moon for Fools – Jasper Gibson
The Great Gatsby – F. Scott Fitzgerald

         Also, I started getting into philosophy, for my own curiosity (and to keep my brain thinking). March looks uncertain but promising.

Note to self: Write more poetry.

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4 thoughts on “Dear February,

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