The trees surround me. Of course they know how I feel, how I still hope.
Everything about my past seems so simple to them – nothing toxic, nothing harmful. To the trees, my past is simply that… the past. It doesn’t hold merit on today, it doesn’t breathe into my soul like the trees do.
If only I could forget.
My hair is white. It is thick and it blows with the wind, tapping lightly on my back and brushing my shoulders.
I look at myself. Not in a mirror, there are not any mirrors in the forest. But I just look, take a step away and see myself. My hands clenched into fists. I breathe into my hands and release them, already feeling better with the tension through my arms gone.
What if they aren’t here anymore? What if they were never here?