The Calm Before The Storm

It’s been raining a lot lately. Every time it rains it reminds me of a certain description turned saying of the moment before a storm: “The calm before the storm”

As a child, I LOVED the rain. I still do. Every time it rained, I would run outside, topless, and just frolic. I saw the rain as a friend. She would visit me sometimes and when she didn’t I would miss her dearly. It would be me and her. Nothing else would matter.

I still enjoy her company but from a distance. I would watch, from a window mostly, as she delicately caresses wildlife. She mesmerised me. I missed her.

I saw rain clouds coming and walked outside, sat down on the grass and looked up. The fresh air before the rain always made me calm. It started raining. She caressed me bitterly, as if she had not seen me in a while and was angry about it. I had never felt as calm as I did then but she, unusually, struck down violently.

In this moment, I started to cry… but no tears appeared. My emotions were unusual, uncoordinated, staggering perhaps; but my body did not respond. I felt no tears appearing. I was crying internally. I had realised she was communicating with me; stating that my life at this point WAS the ‘calm before the storm’. Long had I lived carelessly without worry or care but, now, am placed right there and then before a violent rain, AS the violent rain, pouring down and crushing all under her, all under ME.

Solitude has been attractive lately and there and then I knew I would never be the same again. This nostalgic moment was destroyed purposefully to tell me that I had changed, that I had grown up. That my state is the calm of the storm while Responsibility, Anger, Frustration, Loneliness, Solitude present themselves in the storm. As I inevitably head towards it. Towards the chaos.

I will find comfort if this confuses you. I do not wish to be understood. I will do what I always do: weep internally and in solitude. I’m tired of it all. I need change. Perhaps, soon enough, this quiet frustration will evolve into voiced and physical anger. I just hope for the life of me she wasn’t right. That I truly will avoid the chaos that she compares me to. That I don’t become the storm.

By Isaac


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