They floated away, one by one. I'd reach out to them but it seemed useless. Nothing I could do would bring them back to me. So I sat there under the oak tree by two big rocks and watched the rain pour down furiously. I lost what I enjoyed. I lost what motivated me. I lost everything a little more as each day passed. And now, here I am, under this dying tree and these dirty rocks. The sun came and went, flashing its light through tree branches, trying to reveal that it was still there... waiting. But I shrugged and turned away from the sun. This was all I had left. The small amount of warmth the sun could give me. I knew I should have gotten up and walked towards it. I should have walked towards it and followed it to find more of its warmth but I just didn't care to. Sometimes the rain was comforting. Sometimes the loneliness wasn't so bad. Sometimes the anger and the sadness were good to me. I laid down in the mud and watched the rain drop on my body and the grass and mud and rocks that surrounded me. I thought about how I'm always playing tricks on myself. I thought about how there was so much that goes on in this forest. There was still sun. There were still families unharmed who were able to enjoy the sun and the rain. There were so many things to be thankful for but I always watched the rain. I watched the rain and buried my hands in the mud. That's what I chose to do but I didn't want to do it. I wanted to find this unknown remedy but they wouldn't let me. So I sat in this forlorn place and played in the rain and the mud.