I am ashamed in a way I don’t think I will ever be able to put into words. I haven’t been this way the entire time we’ve been in this relationship, and I hope that we will someday recover from it. The thought that we won’t is something that constantly wrecks me.
You and I are like a dance of thunder and lightning— pushing and pulling each other in ways neither of us know how to handle.
Gentle gusts of wind that transform us into destructive storms. One of us always gets hurt.
Yet, we stay. What does this say about us?
Is it that our love is stronger than a monsoon? Is it that we are, together, the unmoving object?
Is it something worse? Could it be that we are simply too stubborn to see our impact on what we call our world? We, who view ourselves as the soft winds — are we the wind or the storm?
We, the storms, stay shrieking through the valley of a two-bedroom apartment. Stuck in our pattern of love, resentment, and then peace. A noticeable barometric change whenever we come together. I look into the eye of my storm, and I see your disdain for the person I have become.
Get Wil’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
I have hurt you in ways I never saw myself hurting someone. I have scarred you physically, mentally - and I apologise.
I struck you in a way that scarred— just under your eye. My words tore into you like thunder tears open the peace of the night sky, in ways you never deserved.
You’ve hurt me in ways I couldn’t have imagined accepting from anyone. I’ve become untrusting of the person I would’ve once trusted with every piece of my mind. Your hands were waves beating on the loose sand of my body- they pushed me into silence.
I am not the person I was when you met me, and neither are you.
And yet, I love you just the same. So, what are we? The storm that rips everything to dust? Or the object that remains unmoving until the air settles?
I hope we do it together. I don’t want to lose you to the conditions that nature has given us, but I don’t want to lose myself either. I want to make it through the edge of the storm, with you, and reach the eye. But what if we have to separate in order to come back together?
That, my stormy lover, is what we must figure out.
