I regret every breath I wasted saying your name. That is only because of the aftermath of the tornado that is my 'I love you'. I mean, 'I love you' isn't something I say very often because when I do cities in my brain call for a storm warning. Storm warnings about my love are made to seem like the world is ending, like someone opened the floodgates, me saying 'I love you' is not supposed to be destructive, yet the trees get blown until they break off at the stumps, the dirt roads in my hometown wash away, and while a sailor or two say they can brave any storm they seem to always abandon ship before the winds even pick up. So I regret every breath I wasted telling you that I love you, and I'm embarrassed that I'm neck deep in the tears I cried for you, and you wouldn't even get your boots wet to try and stop me from drowning. To put it lightly, I regret every breath I wasted saying your name because the tornado of my "I love you" turned out to be a damage I cannot afford to fix. I was made to feel like a walking tornado, I blamed myself for the damaged people walking into my own path of destruction, but I like every woman I know is a storm. Us women are beautiful each in our own ways, from the tornados like me, the hurricanes like my sisters, the tsunamis like my mother, and the blizzards like my friends. The men who come for us are storm chasers, and at this point in this tornados life, I'm faced with rookies. See these storm chasers like the idea of chasing the storm, but once it surrounds them they try their hardest to run away, and when they do storms like me feel the aftermath. I am a tornado and I own that title like my life depends on it. I own the damage I have done, but at least there is still a little bit of humanity left in me to try and fix it all. So storm chasers, learn how to handle a storm before you call yourself a storm chaser.
April 5, 2018