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Our friendship, like the lazy afternoons we shared, had always been effortless. We were inseparable: two leaves clinging to the same branch, rustling in harmony. But now, winter's approach had unceremoniously plucked us from our perch and tossed us into the fray. It wasn’t your fault, nor mine. It was the wind. It was always the wind.
“Is it just me, or does the wind feel... different?” I asked, trying to break the ice forming in more ways than one.
You shrugged. “It’s just the weather.”
Just the weather? How could you reduce this existential upheaval to just the weather? The winds that now howled through our lives weren’t merely atmospheric phenomena—they were harbingers of the end. They carried with them the cold reality that nothing lasts forever, not even us.
The next day, I made my decision. I would renounce it all—friendship, warmth, even humanity itself. If the earth was destined to strip me bare, to reduce me to nothing but a shivering soul adrift in an indifferent universe, then so be it. I would embrace it. I would become one with the wind, the earth, the eternal cycle of life and death.
I quit my job, sold my possessions, and moved to a remote forest. There, among the ancient trees and the whispering winds, I began my transformation. I learned the language of the leaves, the songs of the streams. I let the frost bite my skin and the sun bake my soul. I became... elemental.
But it wasn’t just the weather. It was everything.
Months passed. Winter came and went, and spring arrived with its false promises of renewal. One day, as I sat beneath a budding tree, I felt the faintest breeze. It was warm, playful, reminiscent of the winds of our youth. And in that moment, I realized the truth I had tried so hard to deny: the seasons may change, but the wind remains the same. It wasn’t the weather that had killed our friendship—it was us.
I smiled. Perhaps I wasn’t meant to become one with the earth after all. Perhaps I was meant to return to the world of people, to the messiness of relationships, to the inevitability of change.
“Alright,” I said aloud. “I get it. It’s just the weather.”
And for the first time, I meant it.