You meant something to me. I’m not sure what it was though. We traveled together, inseparable, comfortable. We relied on each other. We were nearly friends. And then on that fateful day the ice came, I realized that I didn’t want to lose you at all. I wanted you to stay with me, to be with me, to keep going on. I had never considered the thought of you not being at my side.

It reminded me of how fragile life really is. It’s so easy to take it for granted. It’s so easy to just watch life go on and forget that it’s so incredibly fragile. You were there for me, and then in one night, you were stripped away from me. It was so cold. Ice formed all around us. The moon looked like a frozen chunk of ice in the air. The air itself seemed frozen. Breathing sent pain spiking through my lungs.

Now you’re cold. Your blue eyes are dead. Your body’s warmth has been stolen away into the night, and I know that nothing will bring you back. The hollow heroes that tried before us, the wise men that guided them and wondered if this journey was even possible.

I traveled alone to the mountain of death, to give my life up that someone else might live again. That was the way of things.

We’re all so cold.