It’s been another cold night, the once plentiful  firewood is becoming more scarce. The walk is getting so far, that I got lost again today. I almost didn’t find my way back. I moved out here to clear my head, but something tells me that revaluation may come too late. The crackling of the ice and water from the creek, are a welcomed symphony. The sounds calm my thoughts but the silence helps me focus. Each night I feel you clawing your way out, but I’m still not ready to part ways. Lagavulin, accompanied by a single shot glass. Sit positioned slightly to the left of the table, leaving the fire in full view. When the bottle is finished I will place this page into the flames, just as I did the day before. Una cicatrice d'amore, è la prova che hai amato.