Weather

I have learned to weather the storms of my soul.
Indeed I have.

Indeed....
he was unexpected.
I truly did not expect him or his effect on me
my heart,
my mind
my feelings.
He was the calming sound of the light pitter-patter of drizzle on an April Sunday morning
in my brutal, destructive hurricane.

I stand in the land where he walked away in a storm.

I close my eyes, still seeing those words wash over me.
The harsh reality of them is still evident for my heart still aches.
Why? The insanity of that one word is lost on me.
If I were to take that word, toss it into the chaos of my soul it would explode into a white hot star that would burn for eternity.
An eternity where visions of what could have been fly past in streaks of light.

I lost much.
Then I fought as a warrior should when their own soul is at stake.

My hurricane has settled to a tropical storm but the waves still lash the rocky beach of my heart when I read words that remind me of you.

I still day dream.

I wish to hear that calming sound of the rain gently falling while I lean into your warm body wishing winter would never come.
For the cold has a way of taking us apart, hiding us away in the deepest recesses of our world and we miss the warmth of one another.

I miss your warmth.
I miss what could have been.

I miss my sanity.
It has been stolen and my heart is still being lashed by storm waves of loss.

With a soft sob she tossed aside the pen and stared at the page where she had written out the ache within her soul.
Her gaze went to the window, she could hear dogs barking in the distance and the birds in the trees and things almost seemed normal.
Except for the pit within her stomach where she felt there was a black pit of despair that would take her down in a heartbeat if she let her guard down.

The air was cool, as fall was quickly approaching and she really did not want winter.
It made her feel as if she was cut off from the world and frozen within.
She shook herself from this melancholy and chastised herself for thinking so deeply about someone who walked out of her life.
The paper with her soul written upon it showed her the cold, harsh reality of how lost she truly was. She would never admit to him though for she feared he would laugh or think her weak.
A shiver of despair washed over her and she decided she could not keep these words.
She tucked the page into the shredder beneath her desk.
The page disappeared into the grinding teeth and fell shredded into the bin.
It looked like her life, those bits of paper all tossed together with no hope of ever reconstructing what they were originally.
She was not the same person and that was ok, she did feel stronger but the days like this one where her heart exploded with an aching need of him scared her.
Friends told her that she would heal in time.
Time had passed, she had healed some but she felt she would never truly heal completely.
For how does one heal from something they desire with all of their soul?