February.

We spend February forgetting about the promises we made to ourselves,

Instead sipping wine and hot cocoa,

And peeking at red roses like they matter to us at any other time of the year.

We try to convince ourselves that we either love love, or that we hate it.

Pretending we're in love, inspired by love, 

Secretly hoping for it to appear like a magic trick in our lives.

We spend February wondering if love even knows what love is.

Blind to all but two and recklessly brave.

Illusional. Perhaps a bit delusional.

Yesterday we were in love with tomorrow, but today we're in love with today.

-Torrey Leigh McKnight-