How do you put life on paper? How do you express love, gratitude and honor on a screen? I can't. Between each of us, wintreath has meant something different and special in it's own way.
To put how I feel in words is like trying to describe color to the blind, or music to the deaf. Ultimately lacking in fullness and depth. So, instead I will try to tell you what wintreath meant to me, knowing full well that I will fail to do the people I cared about must justice. Because Marz, North, Pengu, German, AJ and so many others, are very real people, and so am I.
To know these people through my eyes, you must first see the world through my eyes. Fate has not been kind to me. I find myself on a journey through this life, in a world of ashes and echoes. I plod along, surrounded by the ruins of a life that could have been, but will never be. The echoes of a happiness forever out of my reach haunts me, weighing me down, making me wish I could just stop, and finally just die. I move along, a walking ghost, kicking up the ashes of a lifetime in ruins, memories howl mournfully through the shattered walls and remnants of my past. And through it all, I know that without a doubt, I am hopelessly alone.
I wish to cry, but the tears wont come. I want to stop, but my feet keep dragging me forward. And so I trudge on, lost and alone, amongst these ashes and echoes. So imagine, journeying through this bleak, forlorn landscape. Imagine the crushing despair and lonliness. Imagine knowing that God himself has turned his back on you. Imagine not having any hope at all. Try to imagine that burden. Your throat is dry and parched, your eyes burning and stinging, your head pounding and every muscle screams in agony, begging you to stop, please just stop. Imagine choking on the ash and dust and tripping over the tangled ruins and wreckage of your past, knowing there is no future, only suffering and death. This is my world...
In my world, amongst the wreckage and damnation, death would be a kindness. I have fallen to my knees, broken and dispirited, lost, confused and utterly alone. I would happily close my eyes and wait for death, my last salvation. And from the ruins, I heard a noise, static, and a pop. I opened my eyes and i heard a voice somewhere close. Lurching to my feet, already half buried in ashes, i ran to find the voice. I struggled on. At last I came upon an old radio, badly damaged and in poor repair. And from its twisted speaker I heard the voice, "Hello...hello..." is it a trick? Is it a recording? Have I gone mad? And again the voice says, "Hello?"
I was scared, alone, without any hope at all. I stared at the radio, shocked. "Hello?" It speaks again. I was afraid. I didnt want to trust the voice. I was scared that it might actually be real. But what if it was? So, I pushed the button, and in a barely audie whisper, I responded. The voice on the other side said with happiness and cheer, "Hey there! We are the people of wintreath. What's your name?" They were real! The people were real! There was someone else in this world!
All around me, the howling continued, the winds of memory wailed and moaned amongst the skeletal remains of my forsaken past. But through it all, there was a voice on the other side of the radio. Even when night fell and the cold crept in, when the storms of nightmares were at their worst, when I was most afraid and alone, wintreath was there. And even in my moments of terror and doubt, I was able to smile and laugh.
When dawn finally came, I finally saw for just one moment, there might be a place I could call home. Somewhere. A place where I could learn to love and laugh and play and dance once again. It could be a place where I wasn't alone anymore. I asked the people of wintreath why you'd ever help a wretch like me, and you said, "Because you're worth being cared about."
All I had to do was keep going, keep walking. So I stood up, tired and afraid, weary and with doubt, and took one more step, and another and another... all the while, Wintreath said "Good job!" "Keep going!" "We're right here with you!"
But, in time, the sky would darken yet again, the winds would come howling ever louder, and the ruins would grow ever more treacherous. And now, I find that radio, wintreath's voice, has broken... Whispers of hope, never to be heard again.
Though I have not found a place to call home, I've been given hope that it might be out there. Though I travel once again alone, for just one moment, I was 'Baby bean.' I am in a better place now, thanks to the voices of wintreath. I travel now with that old broken radio, unable to discard the memories of a happier time. But that radio is now nothing more than static and noise. Memories of being someone special, if only for a while.
I am a long way from a place I can call home. I cant remember ever seeing the sun in this world of mine. There is no happiness here. There is just haunted ruins.
Wintreath was the voice in the darkness for a moment. Wintreath was the rising sun. You were the messages over that old radio. I miss your laughter, your smiles and all the joking. I miss being called baby bean.
But you have become broken, and the light has grown dark. I have no idea where I go from here. I can never repay you for the love and compassion you have shown, and I will never forget.
Thank you for being the voice over the radio, thank you for holding me when I cried and comforting me when I was hurt.
Please find that voice again, wintreath, so I dont have to say goodbye...
