The Calm After The Storm
The storm made landfall a week ago, and the subsequent flurries have quieted now. The damage is done. The house upturned, the kitchens a mess. The mattress remains a chess piece. Our toothbrushes are no longer roommates, and neither are we.
The last two months has been trying. And trying and trying and trying. Both of us were reaching out for the same thing, blindly, but in different directions. We were caught in the waves of the storm, bobbing out at sea in the night. Each wave would pummel us down benease the bubbling surf. Out of breath, the unrelenting force of the sea held us until our lungs screamed for oxygen.
Then, a break. Water subsiding and air touching our mouths, we gasped a violent inhale of oxygen to keep our hearts beating for the moment. We were safe now, and the wave had passed. In our rejoicing for the smooth waters we failed to see the next wave, crashing us under the dark blue, with just enough air in our lungs to do it all over again.