Feeling: resigned
Listening to: Coldplay - Viva la Vida
Reading/Watching: Breaking Dawn, by Stephenie Meyer

There once was a forest. It wasn't the most beautiful, the oldest, the healthiest, but it was ours. We lived in it, banking on the fact that the river would keep it alive.

We dug no channels, diverted no streams, but waited patiently for rain.

As the river dried, so did the forest. Slowly withering, in achingly pathetic steps, the leaves curled and browned, the growth faltered.

I, careless and exhausted with praying for the river, lit a cigarette to calm my nerves.

The burning ashes barely touched the ground before the desiccated forest ignited. I stood in shock, amazed and terrified by how easily this huge, once-lovely forest was destroyed.

You, seeing the cigarette in my hands, spent precious moments screaming about how I shouldn't have been smoking, and by the time we turned to the puny river for water, the entire forest was ablaze.

You continued to scream about how my cigarette started it all. The breath from your howls urged the flames higher. Then you claimed that we could still save the forest. Just come back, and keep trying. I turned and walked away, unwilling or unable to stop this disaster. I wanted to live, instead of go down fighting.

So yes, you're right. I threw the spark that started the fire. It must be completely all my fault. Now you can sleep at night.

I, in turn, will keep walking, smoke stinging my eyes. I may arrive covered in ashes, but I will move on from this. You are welcome to stay behind.

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