February. The season of love. Of passion. Of confessions. Rejections. Heartbreaks. Of heartfelt desires. Of an ardor rekindled in one's essence. It was February. The season of cherry blossoms. Of paths pink strewn. A sharp, but tenacious and seasonal breeze was blowing. It could make one feel like a poet at the soul. Making one desiring to weep at how beautiful life was..