Thunderstorms

When we began, he was a shower of snowflakes, but I was the entire blizzard.

When we broke into hatred, he was just a sidewalk cracked in the rumble of my earthquake.

When I fell in love, he was the first spark, but I was the roaring forest fire.

When he shattered my heart, he filled the sky with raindrops, and from his cloud I grew into a hurricane.

And now that he’s gone, I’ve been able to see myself for who I really am: I am the thunderstorm, made up of clouds of fun beginnings; sprinkles and splatters of hatred; deafening cracks of pain; and shining bolts of love.

Maybe the world is full of disasters, but maybe, even more so, it is full of the chance for blue skies.

Heartbreak, still

I guess people fall out of love like it’s nothing. One day they wake up and look at the person sleeping next to them…and all those feelings they once had are just gone. No reason, no explanation. The start of a new month, maybe, or the shedding of old skin, or perhaps a shift in the atmosphere. People lose love just as often as they lose their keys. It’s the easiest thing in the world.