The thunder and lightning have returned, and you still aren’t here. It seems like every time there was a storm I stared out of the window waiting for you to come home. This is the last storm that I will think about you. There is no thunder left in me to miss you. There is no more lightning left to shock me into forgiving you. There are no more rain drops that fall from my eyes wanting things that you cannot give. There is no more wind that blows away my thoughts of leaving you. This is the last time that I will miss you. The last time.

The storm will knock down brittle limbs from pecan trees that you used to care for. The storm will rage in the river behind the house that we used to swim in. The rain will wash away seeds in the garden that you planted. The rain will wash away my heartbreak this time. The lightning will crash and knock out the power, and I will not cling to you in the darkness of my night. The thunder will shake the house that you once occupied.

In the morning, I won’t wonder what you were doing last night. In the morning, I won’t fight the urge to fall into your arms. In the morning, I won’t ignore my longing for more. In the morning, you won’t be here. In the morning, the pain will subside. In the morning, I will rise again. In the morning, I will smile though the pain.

In the morning, you will wake up with heartache and regret, but I won’t be there to see you through another day. In the morning, we will both rise again, separate, but not without for trying.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s