There is a dried, shriveled, fragile, little, yellow leaf on my windowsill.

I remember the cool, early, autumn day it blew through my balcony door, it and two others. A soft, almost plush, creamy-yellow color with a texture to match. I lay, sprawled on my couch, basking in the mild temperatures (knowing it would be one of the last days warm enough to do so). I thought to myself, "I should pick those up" but quickly returned to my own internal thoughts as I stared out to the tree beyond the window. I remembered it's blazing, vibrant, glory during dawn. The way each moment the sun devoured the tree, setting more of its leafs ablaze. A crescendo of color projected on, and radiating from, the tree. Climaxing in a golden flame, amorphous in shape and shade as the cool autumn winds stirred its limbs into dance.
That moment was profound, it was a part of a change within me. Movement towards trying to better understand myself and my own happiness. I remember it with fondness even if it was a difficult time for me.

I remember, weeks later, when an acquaintance picked up that once vibrant leaf, now curling and drying. I remember how embarrassed I was to have missed that in my cleaning, yet I did my best to remain casual with an off-hand remark. She smiled at me as she placed it on the windowsill, commenting on the beauty of the tree beyond and how it stood as a beacon of warmth against the approaching winter. I remember how we spoke that night, learning each other with such honestly, openness, and without any judgement. The warmth and tenderness that began, as well as the passion and savagery that followed.
This evening was impactful, I met a person who became a friend, a lover, a sub, a possession. A person who's growth allows my own. Who helps me see good and possibility in myself again. Who's empathy and kindness is a reminder that there are still people with those qualities out there.

Later still, I dragged myself through the routines of cleaning my apartment, not really understanding why (it's not like anyone could come over those days) but forcing myself to maintain because I knew it was 'what I should try to do'. As I swept under the couch I stared out into a frigid and grey sky, only made more solemn by the barren branches that seemed to stretch across the clouds like a spiderweb. My brain reached for the memory of that blazing sunrise, trying to 'will' such magnificence back into the day but living in black and white. A dry, scratching, sound pulled me back from my sojourn. I pulled the broom out from under the couch and was surprised to find a dry, withered, yellow leaf. It's hollow, lifeless, color a mockery of its former glory as its frame slowly waited to turn to dust.
That faded, decrepit, leaf was the point of color in a colorless sky. Tiny as it may have been, as overwhelmed and used as it may have already been, it carried the weight of personal hope. It bore the burden of my mental health and carried me through to the other side. If it carried me for but a moment, a breath, or a thought, it still carried me and the end of that journey may not have been had without it.

As I lay on my couch, lovingly and happily cuddled up to my wife, watching a stark and barren tree defy the harsh elements of winter, my eyes fall to this withered leaf and I am flooded with memory. All these moments, thoughts, and feelings come racing back, conjured by a leaf. I admire its dignified pose, the way I can see it veins through it's aged skin, and how it affected my life.
I'm hit with a nostalgic pang as I realize that, enviably, this leaf will crumble. Through accident or age it will eventually cease to be with me, and will one day no longer remind me of these wonderful moments in my life.

Does that make them any less important to me?

Does that take anything away from the impact they had on me and my life?

Does that erase the growth and good that came from each of those potentially lost moments?

The memory of each location may fade, but you never lose the distance you've traveled (even if it may feel like it at times). We will never be able to keep the people, places, or things important to us in our lives forever. However, their impact on you is never gone. They live forever in every thought and action you have, in every way you interact with the world, and in every ripple you cause.

Something as simple as a leaf has the power to change your life, to support your fears and anxieties, to help you remember, grow, evolve, and to carry you to the next moment.

For those who struggle, please, never forget that.