March was quite anticipation. Flower petals and snowflakes. No stars though. The sky remained dark, reminding me of the loss and the tears I could not cry. A fast-moving clock – that I forgot to wear on my wrist – counted away my seconds, my days, the lives I would not live. But I know who I am now. I know how to set the ghosts free, how to let go.
 
There were snowdrops outside my window. There was a bird flying; an unexpected song.
March was fluttering eyelids and cold hands and laughing hard with friends. It was winter and spring, secrets and rain and warm tea.
It was another month unraveling. Another month of quite longing and anticipation.