The rain on my face reminds me of your kisses as a child, empty and cold, refreshing then and upsetting now. At one point, something I would run to, be thrilled to receive, now something I hide from, something I hope to never face again. You’re a lot like weather you know, full of unpredictable patterns and immeasurable damage. Bright and sunny one moment, dark and foreboding the next, all the while I think to myself, watching your storm clouds gather in your once sunny sky, “The weather will get better. It has to!” but it never does.
You’re a lot like weather, you know. A cool wind breezes by, reminding me of your icy breath, the air you’d breath on my ear when you hugged me, trying to comfort me, telling me ‘there’s nothing to be afraid of’, except the thing to be afraid of was you. By promising me you were not bad, you cemented everything else around me as a fear, so that in times of panic and uncertainty, I’d turn to you instead, because I didn’t know there was anywhere else to go. On a hot summer day, instead of enjoying it, I’d seek out the breeze, not knowing the breeze was a lie. Not knowing that the breeze was what was actually making me ill, the cold wind chill, and not the warm summer sky.
You’re a lot like weather, you know. Neither rain, now sleet, nor snow, nor hail; I’m lucky I survived your blizzard to tell the tale. Wrapped in a warm blanket of my insecurities, a fire blazing, born of my fears, they got me through your damaging winter storms. Sure, I didn’t come out the other end any better, but at least I survived the ice and the freeze. I tried to be a storm chaser, but getting close to you, trying to figure you out, trying to be in awe of your majestical faults, was just as dangerous as trying to outrun you. Like a tornado you would chase me down, force me to hide under a mattress to escape, praying and sobbing, hoping there would still be something left standing in your wake. And when all was said and done, the town was leveled, the people stunned, I’d come back out and try to understand…try to comprehend the damage, why it happened, what its reason was. But there wasn’t any. There couldn’t be.
Now I hide from the outdoors, I stay inside and shudder at the slightest hint of a raindrop hitting my shutters. I tense up at the smallest change in temperature, and I watch the sky in fear. Nothing is certain, that much is certain. Crisp fall leaves crack under my feet, like so many broken promises, regret, yet, we’ll meet again I’m sure, one day, when the sun is out and you’ll say, “It wasn’t as bad as you remember. The weather is something we all must face.” What a shame, a disgrace, the storms you can create, the abuse you can say was alright because it was you who made it. You’re a lot like weather, you know.
And now I stay inside, away from any weather whatsoever. No more sunny days or rainy nights. No more storms, no more flashing lights or thunderclaps. Now I stay indoors, free from your onslaught of temperature changes, telling myself that I survived the flood, that I survived the earthquake, that I survived the tsunami.
Now I laugh at weathermen.
I’m Maggie. If you like this thing I made, you might like some other things I’ve done, like my 2015 novel “You Ruined Everything”, my podcast network “The Feel Bad Network” or my feed over at Ello. You can also find some published work for sale over at my Payhip , buy prints/stickers and more at my online store on Big Cartel, or support my work at my Patreon! Anything helps & is appreciated, thanks!