New England in the fall.

I longed to be home. Some may say that's where I was. They didn't know. They'd never seen. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. The leaves rhythmically crumbled and collapsed noisily beneath my feet. A sound I had heard all of my life, yet now it seemed foreign. It seemed like I wasn't supposed to hear this sound anymore. This wasn't home anymore. Home didn't hurt. Home didn't affect tears, or an aching emptiness that wouldn't go away. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. It really was beautiful here in the fall. It always did inspire peacefulness, a serenity I couldn't find otherwise. How could this be all I was supposed to have? How could this be all I was supposed to know? I knew I was still young and had my whole life ahead of me, but that was just it. I tried to make it *my* life and I failed. I had to come back. It couldn't be my life yet. I couldn't even start it. I couldn't even have ruined it if I wanted to because it still hadn't started. I did have my whole life ahead of me, and as I walked through the dead and dying dreams and hopes of each branch and trunk, it felt as though it would always be ahead of me. Never within my reach. Never now.

"Dude, I said wait up!" I continued on my way. What's the point in stopping? What's the point in even talking? Why should I even waste time spouting thoughts and opinions I couldn't even call my own? If I couldn't own my life, I sure as hell couldn't own my thoughts. No one should have to be subjected to it. This wasn't where I wanted to be, this wasn't what I wanted to do. All I could do now is walk. It's all I had anymore. People told me it wasn't my fault. People said I'd bounce back. They said I shouldn't blame myself. When they failed at life after just starting it, that's when they could talk. I became faintly aware that someone had fallen in step with me. I said nothing. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

The sun was starting to set behind the trees. Maples, birches, evergreens. You could always tell when you were far from the equator. The vegetation took on a tighter, harsher, wintry feeling. Everything was so much less open and free. So much more secretive.

"It won't hurt so much later. When you're back there… You'll be stronger because of this." I turned still keeping my pace. The face to my left was one I was always glad to see. Since I came back I thought maybe things would be different. I thought this face would try to avoid me at all costs. I didn't think I had the right to call anyone a best friend right now, especially someone so deserving of the title. It felt apt to say I needed a babysitter instead. I didn't want her to become that. I didn't want that face to portray the hopelessness I was feeling.

"I hope you're right."