For my mother. they say we never really know how soon it actually will be yet, maybe in a weird way we do. It is just so damn painful, we refuse to look. “Human life begins on the far side of despair.” Jean-Paul Sartre When the end of February approaches, a part of me freezes. This has happened every year for as long as I can remember. Like clockwork, analysis starts. As March turns the corner, this deepens and morphs into what perhaps can be only called a lighted version of despair. As the end of March closes in, another year of my existence on this planet will …