The month for lovers. What injustice. Every month should be the month for lovers. Yet we try to shove it all into one of twelve. Worse yet – into a single day. And what of those not in relationship? We push them further away into the darkness of solitude almost as if to shame them for being on their own.
And then there are those who have lost. Like a beast upon carrion the month looms closer until it treads over the weary, leaving them weaker than before, lost in pools of their own tears over love lost. For if February is the month for lovers, then it is also the month to mourn lost love. Whether through our own acts or not matters little; the pain is the same. We must go through four weeks of agonizing memories and missed closeness.
And why? So the money-hungry corporate destroyers of innocence can rake in their fortunes over the guilt of others. Why else spend money for such a day other than to not feel guilty for “missing it”. And the ones who enjoy making us feel guilty? The same ones that we are trying so hard to please with our fawning devotion.
For years I have dreaded this month – ever since Mitchel’s death there has been a pall that lies heavy over these days and nights. And even now, if given a way out, I would avoid February altogether. Yet there is no way to hide. If I turn on the TV, it is there in the news and the advertisements and the programs. Leave the fool box off, there are still billboards that litter our streets and highways. The radio is no better. What am I to do, live in silence in a darkened room for twenty-eight days? (or twenty-nine this year)
It is indeed a grand injustice to the people who walk this planet. But as long as there are two souls who yearn to be together, there will be February.
A necessary evil?
Evil – most assuredly.