There are moments in our lives when we ask God to just end it all. We come to our lowest points and life just doesn’t seem worth it. We put ourselves down to where no one can enter or even where the light doesn’t reach, but for some reason there is a will to just keep going. I sit here with my frozen hands trying to write. The numbness kind of feels good. The sweat dripping down my back feels like a wall of ice, like a cold drip that slowly and steely forms into a glacier. It’s my shield, my coldness. The sun swims through the trees and onto my legs, the legs that brought me here, to this point. Sitting on this cold, moss filled rock. Day after day I push on through. On this trail I keep pushing until there is no more. The wind flutters by tickling my neck making my hair dance.