They are gone, your friends too. Now on this coldest of nights you will turn in your sleep, dream back to the beginning. It was something you said, it was something you did. No matter – you live in a house with paper walls, they will collapse if you move too fast. What if you can recreate the beginning? If they all return tomorrow will you burst into bloom? Perhaps everything will turn out right. Though I believe you will wake from your dream to find you cannot reinvent the end.