I could have never predicted your intensity.
You weren’t always this way.
No. At first you were a mist, saturating my broken pieces.
We drizzled sweet nothings and soft touches, but
Your haze blurred my vision. I didn’t see the storm move in.
Next lightning struck. The emotion between us was
Piercing. Blinding. Electrifying.
However, when the thunder came, the words of passion
Became indistinguishable from the words of anger.
But I loved you so I waited for the sky to clear.
I waited. Expectantly. Patiently. Anxiously.
But the storm never passed.
Clouds rumbled and rolled overhead.
Shaking our structure. Unsettling us.
The rain…. your love…. It’s changed.
Instead of being drenched in compassion,
I was soaked with heartache,
Unable to tell the difference between the rain
And the tears streaking down my face.
My refreshing rain is turning torrential.
I saw the signs and still didn’t believe a hurricane was coming.
Howling winds as vicious as your temper.
Floods ravaging every area of my life.
No matter where I go, I’m trapped in your eye.
Your calm charade, so opposite of the destruction you cause.
I still wait for the storm to break.
I long desperately for the sun.
I miss the warmth…. the radiance…. the light,
But I can’t leave you.
How could I survive without the rain?