Mar 2018
While bearing the weather of a storm, you don't consider the aftermath; you don't consider the damage that's being done. In that moment, all you can do is brace yourself. You hide, tuck your head between your knees, close your eyes and try to convince yourself it isn't happening. The ground shakes, the wind whistles through the cracks of the doors and it feels like the world may fall from beneath you, but you bear it. And then, after what feels like a piece of forever, the wind settles, the rain stops and you can breath easy. You survived. For a while, you think it's over. The calm is a silent whisper convincing you that you'll be okay. You think all is passed. Until you look up, step outside your home and see the damage that's been done. The gardens that have been destroyed by fallen trees, the broken windows of the house down the street, the flood of water from the rain that swallows everything in its way. That's when you realize; the worst part has only just begun.
Losing you was the storm. It was slow at first, then it progressed as time went by and became aggressive...angry. It was loud, it came with too many words that should have remained unsaid to save ourselves from the damage. But you see, you didn't consider the aftermath of breaking me. You didn't care enough to spare me the pain of forgetting every promise you ever made me; telling me things that to this day create thunder in the back of my mind on the sunniest of days. I braced myself, convinced myself we could survive this. I convinced myself that your anger was a cloud that needed to release its rain. And rain it did. But it's been days since it stopped raining and I'm still coughing up water from the flood you left behind.
Just when I thought we were in this together, you couldn't handle the changing weather and I'm here in a pile of broken branches with bruised feet and ****** knees wondering how I could have avoided this. What happens when the one thing I tried to protect is destroyed? What happens when it's my heart?
How do you fix the aftermath of a storm when its somewhere your hands can't reach?
Losing you was the storm. It was slow at first, then it progressed as time went by and became aggressive...angry. It was loud, it came with too many words that should have remained unsaid to save ourselves from the damage. But you see, you didn't consider the aftermath of breaking me. You didn't care enough to spare me the pain of forgetting every promise you ever made me; telling me things that to this day create thunder in the back of my mind on the sunniest of days. I braced myself, convinced myself we could survive this. I convinced myself that your anger was a cloud that needed to release its rain. And rain it did. But it's been days since it stopped raining and I'm still coughing up water from the flood you left behind.
Just when I thought we were in this together, you couldn't handle the changing weather and I'm here in a pile of broken branches with bruised feet and ****** knees wondering how I could have avoided this. What happens when the one thing I tried to protect is destroyed? What happens when it's my heart?
How do you fix the aftermath of a storm when its somewhere your hands can't reach?
