February is coming. It’s like a bad omen, a cursed month that I resent. As soon I see the red and white candies popping up at the supermarket I feel sick to my stomach. It’s almost unbearable how much I resent this month. Everyone is all excited for Valentines Day, excited they have something to look forward to. In 2010, my great grandmother died February 4th then my estranged family decided to ignite all our war. So instead of mourning her, I had to fight them there came a  point where they almost stopped us from having a funeral. When we were able to have a funeral it was just over a week later. Those events caused me to really not care for February. It’s like I relived those events with every year that passed. Last year I was supposed to have my book party. February 12th the day I lost my trust and fell apart. My family burned me by not showing up after planning something out of my comfort zone. I already took a lot crap from people especially certain family members for choosing to be an author. I thought I could trust these people- I did trust them up until that day. I’m aware I’m a little more bitter and resentful towards certain things. I think a person can only be burned so many times before that happens. After that day I had to cut many people out, I became less passive and less forgiving. It didn’t take much for me to push people out. I’m closed off from people, I trust less and only rely on myself. Sometimes it seems stupid to hate a month but there’s really. There has been nothing good that’s come from February. If it was possible I’d sleep through it if I could.