Dear March

blusterydayDear March,

We’ve talked about this.

You know it hurts my feelings — and my fingers — when you’re this cold. You promised you’d try harder.

I understand if it’s hard to be warm first thing in the morning, I do. I need my space when I first wake up, too. So I don’t mind if I have to wear my hat and gloves on the way to work. But the forecast for today says you won’t even be breaking above freezing. I’d hoped to go for a walk with you this afternoon, but I guess that won’t be happening. We’ll just sit around inside like we always do.

And last night — all the blustering and throwing my porch furniture around, and knocking out my power for five hours. I’m not saying it wasn’t romantic to sit by candlelight and look out the window at the darkened street. It’s just that I would have preferred you ask first. I had things I needed to get done, and work the next day. Next time maybe a weekend night would be better.

I know change is hard, March. I recognize that you’re trying. I don’t want to be one of those girls who nags her month all the time. There are so many things I like about you — maybe I should have led with those. That day last week when you got up to sixty degrees, the sun was shining and the snow melting into happy rivers all over town, and people posting e.e. cummings poetry on Facebook. That was amazing. And you’ve melted the huge snow piles down to at least half their size. I’ll always be grateful to you for that. But if you would put in just a little more effort, March, you could have the snow piles gone completely. I know you have it in you. Just a few more degrees today, for example, would continue the good work. I hate to push you. But it’s the 18th, you know. You’re supposed to come in like a lion, I get that, but isn’t it about time you started going out like a lamb? Lion time is over, March. Come on.

You know that I’m just getting out of a bad relationship with February. And I know it’s mean to compare you to my ex, but some of the things you do bring up bad memories. I think I’m still a little traumatized. I don’t mean to take it out on you, though. But if you could be a little more understanding. Maybe just a little bit warmer. Could you just try?

Thanks for listening, March. I have to go back out now, bundled up like it’s January or February or something. I know. You’re different than those months. I’ll try to trust you and be patient with you on your bad days.

Love you.



Update: March 31st

Dear March,
I’m too sick right now to write you a long break up letter. I think we both saw this coming. Just leave your key on the table on your way out.


If you liked this letter, you might also enjoy my breakup letter to February, and my foray into internet dating with April.


Dear February

brokenheartDear February,

Hey, babe. We need to talk.

I don’t think we should see each other anymore.

It’s not you, it’s me. Okay, well, if I’m honest, it’s a little you. I mean, I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this before, but you’re kind of high maintenance. I don’t mind putting work into a relationship, but when it’s always you throwing tons (literally) of snow at me, and I have to spend every weekend shoveling out my house and car, it gets to the point that I just can’t cope. When was the last time we did something fun on the weekend? Maybe these blizzards *are* fun for you, I don’t know. But for me, I think I need a month with a little more warmth, the occasional sunny day I can just cuddle with and be myself. You know?

And, listen, I’m sure there are girls out there who can appreciate you more than I can. People who ski, for example, or who hate being able to feel their fingers and toes. You should hold out for someone who likes you for who you really are.

What’s that? Who told you that? Well, yes, it’s true, I have met someone else. His name is March. He actually reminds me of you a little, in a funny way. He and I have plans tomorrow and — guess what? — he might have a blizzard. On our first date, I know. He’s a bit of a fixer-upper. But I really think he’s open to change. I think he’s even open to some days in the 40s and 50s in a week or two. That’s one thing that you were never even willing to discuss.

Still, I think March might just be a rebound relationship. There’s this other month I met online who says he always brings his girls flowers. Flowers, can you imagine? Did you ever think of doing that, February? Or is that too much of  a cliche for you?

Oh. Well, this is awkward — it’s only 11 am. I guess we should have had this conversation over dinner. So…what do you want to do for the rest of the day? Come on, February, don’t be like that. Let’s end on a good note. What do you say — want to go shovel some snow, for old time’s sake?




If you liked this post you might want to check out Dear March and Dear April, too.