Stormy Weather

Did I tell you about the storm that rolled in last night? It was the clash of thunder and rain; a war that tore apart the intricate silk tapestry of that watercolor canvas. Those winds whipped, whisked, and whirled like whips unfurled. They cracked with anger at the ruins of our ethereal painting. Dreary was that war, sliding in on two feet and out on all four. With shoulders slumped and head bowed low, my defeated soul trudged slowly like a phantom caught in the snow.

It’s been months now as I needled away at the shreds of my sanity. I desperately stitched together the rips, unaware that those tears were filled with your helpless tears. No matter what I tried, they kept growing wider and wider, and I didn’t quite understand why. I beat my chest and bellowed into the rain, looking for what had become of us, but only finding pain. I asked you then as I ask you now; did you hear those clouds’ plaintive cries?

I finally stopped trying to understand what was happening and just let things be. Maybe I should have seen this coming, this thing between you and me. Time passed between us, and the temporal rifts set us adrift. This sadness lingers in my chest, and of all people, you know this best. I can’t quite explain it, and I still don’t understand why. But I simply get it now, after all this time.

Was something there between us, something divine? But now I’m wondering if it was just the wrong moment, just the wrong time? Was it a mirage, or merely a dream? Do I awake from this storm with all this lightning and rain, to find out that this it, nothing else can be seen? Have I woken up and it’s all that it seems?