I Guess They Name Hurricanes After People For A Reason

I always have fancied the thought of storms, in my own twisted way. There’s just something about the way the sky apologizes with a rainbow after a storm that puts me at ease. You can’t have sunshine without a little rain, right?

All of this appeared to be true until you came along. Like a hurricane, you were the most violent storm I have ever experienced. You didn’t come with a storm warning so I didn’t have time to evacuate or board up my windows.

I’m still dealing with the aftermath.

I should’ve left when I discovered the magnitude of the storm you’d bring. I ignored my head and trusted with all my heart that you wouldn’t destroy a home you helped build. I thought I was ready to face the whirlwind—I had no idea.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You were supposed to kiss my skin like the sun in July and warm my insides like a cappuccino in December. I only had a shitty umbrella and rain boots but realistically, I needed a storm shelter. No one saw this coming—I didn’t see this coming.

We were supposed to be just friends. Storms are supposed to bring peace but instead this one brought chaos. I was supposed to be watching the rain crash into my window but instead I was caught right in the eye of the storm.

The only way out of the storm was to go through it and that’s exactly what I did.

You crashed into the walls that I spent years building around my soul and exposed my weak structure for all to see. When the damage was done, little pieces of me remained. You flooded the streets and took pieces of me wherever you went and left them to rot. Your words crashed into me but no one heard because you said them in solitude; like a fallen tree in a forest. It’s been a while since you last caused destruction.

After all, most hurricanes form but never make it out of the ocean.

The pain during the storm was bad but the agony after is worse. I see the wreckage in everything you tampered with. The casualty count is still rising. My hope for our future is dead, along with the belief that someone can love you without hurting you.

I’m still rebuilding my home but this time I won’t use false hope as the glue to hold it all together.

Homes made out of people will never survive unharmed.

As for you, you’re off the coast now. But I’m sure you’ll be back when the waters get warm again. In typical fashion, you’ll unexpectedly decide to come crashing in when you become yesterday’s news.

After all, hurricanes are named after people like you for a reason.