You drop to your knees. The rain is pouring down around you, splattering, splashing. Lightning flashes across the sky.

You are alone, completely alone.

And that is the problem.

You fall forward, and your palms hit the ground and sink into the mud. Your eyes are wet, but unlike the rest of your body, they are wet with water that tastes of salt.

You are in a forest somewhere, somewhere that you don't know. Somehow, you can't help but remember having been here before, years and years and years ago.

Several hundred years, in fact.

It was a time when, however shattered your life might have seemed, you knew who you were.

You had been in love, but had never gotten the chance to admit it.

And there is no way you're able to admit it now, being what you are.

It has been several hundred years. Yet, you are still completely in love with one guy.

And he's gone.