Like an ash tree in a thunderstorm, I threatened to collapse. I wanted to collapse. I wanted my branches to split; to crash to the ground. To be free from the strain of the thunderstorm. The rain pounded down on my branches, getting heavier within the storm. When will the rain pass? Why did it have to rain here? Go rain somewhere else. I've had enough. That's it. But I decide to stay. I decide to hold onto my branches, just so I don't hurt anyone below me. I believe that the storm is going to clear up. That it is going to stop raining. It has to eventually right? It cant rain for the rest of my life. I gave the rain a chance, to clear up. I was promised rays of sunshine, while all I got was dark clouds in the north rolling towards me. I left. The ash tree was replanted to a happier place.