The Storm

How did I end up here?

You came into my life like a tempest. Ripping away everything I thought I knew. Washing away my stories with hailstones. Throwing me up in the air. Spinning me around until I couldn’t breathe. Spitting me out.

Then, in fresh dawn light, I’m waking to gentle waves lapping on white sand. And it seems there’s nothing for it but to pick myself up and walk. Towards unknown hills. I take nothing with me, for I have nothing.

There’s no need to wonder where you went. Because you are as much the light breeze as the tornado. As much the soft waves as the tsunami. As much the morning sun as the dark clouds. In fact, all you ever were was the sun. Shining. Because that’s what the sun does. The rest was what it took to bring me here. To bring me home.

No, more than that. To wake me from the dream of the storm. To show me the beach where I slept. I became the nightmare. I rocked you, battered you, threw hailstones at you.

No, less than that. As the dream fades, I know you were never separate from me. I know you only as myself. We are the sun shining. The dark of the storm our own light. The distant hills a dancing play of that same light. There is nowhere to go.

How did I end up here? Because I never left.

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