February Feelings

You used to love February—

your Groundhog Day Birthday,

the month when love arrived in

birthdays' bursts and spurts.

Your sister—three years, three days younger.

Your grandfather, gone now, born on the twenty-first.

Your godson — only two days after you,

as if he himself were your most precious gift.

Valentine’s Day brushing up

against dearest friend’s birthday.

Your best childhood friend

Born on the nineteenth.

So many lives to celebrate,

so much hope,

the sense that February—

shortest of months—

was also the sweetest,

quietly ushering in spring.

But then, Putin's deeds —

February 20, 2014: Crimea annexed.

February 27, 2015: Nemtsov murdered.

February 24, 2022: war unleashed on Ukraine.

February 16, 2024: Navalny killed.

Now Putin's war on Ukraine is longer

than the Soviets' fight against the Nazis.

The dread of it—

nightly strikes, daily losses—

is unbearable.

There are no words left

for the rage you feel

toward Putin,

toward the silence

and complacent inaction

of so many Russians.

February 24 is black forever.

If anger alone could stop a war,

this one would have ended

on Day One.

So how do you stop hating?

How do you stop being angry?

How do you stop feeling

that February itself

has been taken hostage

in Putin's war against humanity?

The truth is: you can’t.

And it’s okay that you can’t.

It means you are human—

still capable of rage,

still capable of empathy

for the victims,

and still doing what you can,

in whichever small steps,

to make it stop.

Find joy in Milan's winter Olympics

And Bad Bunny's halftime show.