As I lay here in this empty bed, I listen to the thunder roll in from the west. With each crash and boom that resonates through my eardrums, I realize something insanely profound. As the pain and nausea sets in, this epiphany, this harsh reality, hits me hard like a sucker punch to the gut from an unknown opponent.
The thing is, I should have known this all along. This truth shouldn’t have come as a surprise in any way.
But it did. It took me completely off guard.
And as each flash of lightning illuminates this cold, dark room, my newfound sense of reality finally starts to set in.
I am a storm.
From a distance, you can appreciate and even love a storm. You can marvel at its raw power and beauty. A storm, will mesmerize you and lull you into a false sense of comfort.
I am a storm.
Most of the times, you will make it through a storm unscathed with little more than a few drops of water dripping down your face. But sooner or later, unapologetically and without warning, a storm you’ve seen a million times will turn on you in an instant. Suddenly, you are left wondering what hit you and what you are supposed to do next.
You see, I am a storm. You can only love a storm until it actually does damage to you. Like the best storms often do, I will ruin and destroy. And because of that, you cannot love a storm. Even the most seemingly harmless of storms are unlovable.
I am, without a doubt, a storm.
And as most experts say, you do not get close to a storm. It’s always in your best interest to just admire it from afar.