Hello, February, you month of infinite possibility. You month I have always cherished high hopes for. You month I can hardly bear to spell.
Really, February. It drives me nuts to spell you, to even think about your spelling. You are to the year what Wednesday is to the week.
February, whoever invented you should have first considered there are people out there who can go nuts over an insufferable spelling.
But come, dear February, let us dwell upon lighter topics.
Let's talk about your potential to set the heart aflutter. To bloom. Let's talk about romance. Let's talk about secret admirers, stolen glances, and love notes. Let's talk about rosy cheeks, dance cards, and ribbons. Let's talk about candy hearts. Let's talk about smiles that can illuminate a single moment and somehow last forever. Let's talk about the hope that everyone in this whole wide world might have something lovely happen to them during your fleeting, 28 days.
Oh, how I'm crossing my fingers!
Don't pout, February. Don't be inconstant. Your time on stage is brief, remember?
Here is my advice to you: just keep it pink as possible, dear February.
Keep it pink as possible.
xxoo
