This didn't kill me like it usually does. Goodie. Hope ya'll like it. I mean, the title sucks but don't let that stop you!
I'd done this before. Getting my heart broken and breaking hearts and all that jazz. It's nothing new, after all, that's what high school is for, right? Right. But you came out of nowhere.You were there before anyone else and you were disarming -- that was the worst part. I never could've done anything to be ready for you.
I feel like one of the those victims of natural calamities. That tsunami-earthquake-hurricane-volcanic eruption -- I never could've known. No amount of canned goods or panic rooms or emergency lamps or foldable shelters or ice boxes could've armed me against the disaster that was you. In a way, you were one of the best things though you were clearly, very clearly, one of the worst.
I was always a little prone to the horrors of tornadoes and flash floods and boys like you. I understood that maybe I should've learned, but when you pulled back your curtains and let down your walls and looked at me with those eyes, there wasn't really any other option. There was no going back. It would be you. It still is.
You absolutely ruin me (present tense) and you don't even realize what you're doing. Hell, I didn't realize what you were doing until it was too late and you were the sun and I was a chunk of planet and there was no escaping your gravity. And I knew I would burn and fold and die, but if it makes any sense, it didn't seem so terrifying. If it involved you, it was worth it, I guess.
You still manage to surprise me, you know, with your secrets and your little laughs. Sometimes, when I'm sitting in my panic room, clutching everything that still makes sense to me, you seep in through the cracks in the walls and find me, and take me. And you don't even notice that you have. And I let you.
I've ached before but never for anything like you. When you leave, I realize how bad the damage really is. Couple of broken bones, cuts and scrapes here and there, I may have dislocated something. My sanity's hanging off a branch somewhere and my heart's probably clinging to someone's window sill. I do realize as I'm being carried away in a raft by some rescue workers that I should probably just up and leave, but when you've lost so much to a disaster of your magnitude, there doesn't seem much of a point to starting from scratch, does there?
And so here I am, still as naive and unsuspecting and vulnerable as the first day. And I will allow all your rain and hail and shivers and trembles of tectonic shifts, because I will never, no matter how I try, be prepared for you.
I'm still trying to recover.
day 11: prepared
