It was the way the branches were shaped. I have lived in this house for exactly a year and seven months. I have sat in this exact chair and observed my surroundings. I have studied the positions of the trees, the way their leaves are shaped. I have sat here and talked about life with the greatest man I've ever known. Watched the snow fall, filled with anxiety, I thought I was trapped forever. Seasons passed and I grew with the changes. Tonight I sat here, blood soaked in vodka, norco dissolving in nasal passages, Mary Jane dancing in the wind... I felt the frightful chill of October. It was like death and despair had arrived and taken hold of my soul. They reached out their ghostly arms and embraced me, filled me with dark cavernous thoughts. I was numb and the weight of a thousand worlds fell upon my shoulders once again. I saw his face, I longed for the chance of laying upon his bed and breathing him in. Breathing in the nights when he said he had my back forever, inhaling the bittersweet sting of a love rejected. I missed his laugh, his temper. I saw his name written in the trees and I knew his voice. The wind whispered through the leaves and played a song like Mary Elizabeth Frye once described. I heard his song, crying out for me to live, to make this existence matter. Cheeks turned, I blamed the higher being, "why such a beautiful soul? Why?" I am so cold and I can't feel my limbs, frozen in yesterday, frozen in the October wind. I sit here and I read it in the trees, it tells me to live but I think I've forgotten how.