I've always found the storms that come from hurricanes so beautiful, the power they bring yet the elegance that accompanies it. You can feel a rush of what can only be described as a combination of hope bringing adrenaline charges and total agony filling fear. So much changes during the rain falling, wind slamming, lifhtning striking, thunder clapping moments. A sudden occurance of peace followed by a grand finale nothing could ever prepare you for. For a few brief minutes you think the worst has passed. Those aeconds of innocent bliss can be the best feeling you have ever had. What follows though blind sides you harder than any 300 pound line backer ever could. It hits you in the deepest pits of your stomach, twisting your guts until you wish they would just get ripped out. Those hours and days after though, those are the times you realize just how horrible the aftermath really is and all of the sudden all that hope and happiness you found from the beauty of it all disappears. All you can feel is an eternal emptiness building, ppuring out of you. At least with a hurricane others can see the pain, the devistation, the horrific sights of the aftermath. When it comes to my storm though I'm the only one who can feel it. There was a time when I thought you were going to be my paradise. The thing that saved me from the constant storms I have thrashing around my head. Turns out even paradise isn't safe from the beautiful destruction of a hurricane. You have moved on to give another the peace you once brought me while I sit here trying to put myself back together. Your name might not be Katrina, but it may as well be.