It is still mid august,
but it is earlier this time.
Looking outside,
you wouldn’t realize that.
It is dark,
and it is storming.
In New Hampshire,
the storms are crazier -
louder thunder,
brighter lightning,
and heavier rain.
And as I lay on this inflatable mattress once more,
listening to the raindrops as they collide with my bedroom window,
I’m met with a reality.
Because if I were in Connecticut right now,
I would be laying by your side,
we would listen to the storm together
and you would comfort me as I hide.
Burrowing my head deeper into the blankets,
as you wrap your arms around me,
holding onto my shaking body.
I would listen to your heartbeat,
steady but alive,
and it would calm me -
but only for a second before another loud boom fills my ears.
And with every jump that left my figure,
you would kiss my head,
reminding me that you’re still there,
as if your embrace wasn’t enough.
Because you wanted me safe,
and you would hurt anyone or anything that tried to harm me.
But in reality -
I am alone,
there is no one on this mattress with me.
And as an attempt to drown out the storm,
I lay with my fan on high
and put it next to my head.
And as I lay here pretending that for once I’m not alone,
I roll onto my side to be met with nothing but darkness.
Because in reality,
you are no where near.
A distance of three hours separates us,
and it’s been only two days,
but with every bolt of light that rips through the sky,
I feel my heart break a little more.
And I long to be the raindrop racing down the window next to me,
as it meets another and they become one.