A leaf was barely hanging from the tree while the wind blew at it unforgivingly. It holds on, not wanting to let go of the tree. For quite some time, that tree was its home, its safe place. It'll remain there as long as it could, not letting go; not yet.

It started with a seed. Before the tree became enormous, with fruits and branches and leaves hanging from it, it was once a seed planted. Do you remember the first time we met? I was in the library browsing for books when the most cliché thing happened: I was reaching out for a Harry Potter book when you did too and our fingers touched. We both looked at each other at the same time