I want to be a great oak. I want to be the type of tree that people carve intials into, that people sit under and stare at the stars, that people climb in and make treehouses. I want to be the type of tree where children grow up. Where teenagers form memories. Where adults can be kids again. I want to be remembered like a friend who was always there. I want people to talk under me, even if there's no one there. I want people to fall in and out of love, of friendships under me. I want to hold all sorts of memories in my bark. I want to appear strong, steadfast and unyielding. Like a true friend - even if I never say a word, I will carry them in each leaf that falls, each back that rests against my trunk, each word spoken under my branches. I will not say any words. But I will speak nonetheless.