And now for something completely different...

This is an entry I found in an old journal. It's about love and relationships and a general philosophy surrounding life. I'll let it speak for itself:

If I were a tree you'd be the rain pouring down my leaves. I'd hang heavy from the weight of your cold, thunderous droplets and turn myself from the wind made that much more unbearable by your chilling touch. You would roll over me with such force as to tear leaves from my brittle, knobby stems and send them plummeting to the earth, useless and laughing as they fell. But your form of harshness, of cold and ravaging power would pass. And you would become the liquid that filled my roots and trunk and branches and blooming stems.

You would be the catalyst for my growth.

And in that you would never leave me, but become a part of me. A part of me that winced when the wind blew and the clouds rolled overhead. That shivered when the morning dew condensed upon my leaves in respect of your memory. But that was eternally grateful for what you gave in your moment of ferocity and grandeur and the path it led me to.

If I were a tree and you were the rain.