The wind is ferocious today. I lie in bed with a smile on my face but it makes me want to run away. Behind the smile I think to myself, ” I AM NO ONE’S AND NO ONE IS MINE”. My heart has been glued in so many places where once broken, but he can smash it with one single whip of his tongue. I hate this power I’ve given him. I am not one to give so much of myself to another. I am the one with the power. I have the power of the storm and that is why we move together. I am always just a step ahead of it. Leading it. It follows me. Not the other way around. The storm grows into a rage outside and I realize that lately he is not the man I used to know. That is what hurts the most. I take responsibility for this change. Although, I do allow some of the blame to go where it should. It freezes my heart faster than the wind as I step outside. I wonder if I jump how far this wind could take me. I wonder if I could just evaporate into it completely and fly with it until we dissipate free. But then I know the gravity and weight of my life will bring me back down no matter how fast the wind, no matter how high I jump.
I am utterly alone. As is everyone in this storm. We can try to hold on. We can try to freeze our hands together to hold on longer but eventually it will thaw. Or we can have our hearts turn to stone to try and anchor ourselves but we find we are still alone in the cold. I have never been good at weathering a storm. I get cold easily. I don’t like being cold. I like the warmth and comfort of understanding wrapped around me. Once I’m cold, I run. I need a new blanket. I need to find the sun for new life. Once in the sun’s warmth, I know another storm is on its way but in the meantime my heart is satisfied feeling its rays.
I don’t feel that now. All I feel is the wind wrapping around my feet. Pulling me toward the sunny beaches where new blankets await. Where I feel beautiful and seen as such. Where I am found in the sand as a treasure instead of a cold stoned heart weighed down in the storm. But I’ve never weathered the storm. I don’t know what it looks like once the storm passes. I’ve never seen a true rainbow or even know if they truly exist. So how do I know which is best? Do I fight for my life through a storm in which I don’t know my heart will survive all for a dream of fairytails? Or do I run with the wind? Laugh and play in the sun
and sand? Then do it all again once the next storm arrives? Tell me. How does one survive?
It's not crazy. It's Passionate! 