cloudburst

Dear Me,

How are you doing? What have you been doing? Who have you been talking to? How have you been spending your time? Are you happy? Are you safe? Are you healthy - mentally and physically? Are you content? Are you well?

Stop. No matter what amount of messy, clouded responses to those questions flurried through your mind just now, release them. Pause for just one moment while I help you relive a time when the answer to "Are you happy?" and every question following that one was "yes."

It's a Wednesday. A cold, blustery November Wednesday shut up inside of your school. A wet, blustery November Wednesday drive home from that school. You enter an empty afternoon house, devoid of the friendly family sounds and warmth, since you are the first one to arrive back there. At first, all is gray. 

And then the rain starts to pour.

Most would argue that rain is gray, rain feels gray, and rain makes more gray. But you, sparkling, optimistic, eyes full of wonder and hope; the rain is a fresh sign for you. And tonight is no different. The torrent of rain - the rhythm of which grows increasingly louder on the sides of the house with every minute that passes by - provides an escape; an excuse to escape. 

You gather your papers and books, your pens and cats and candles and raspberry tea. You change out of the clothes that smell of school and into the ones that remind you of Grandma, and you nestle down into your favorite corner of that house. And despite the blood of the day, the foreboding feeling that crouched in your stomach as you went through the motions of Wednesday, despite the tears of the evening before, and the - now seemingly insignificant - strife of the past weekend, everything is calm.

The house is still quiet, but now it is warm. Now your corner is glowing. Now the sound of your words tumbling as you click them out on your keyboard fills the air thick with honey and yellow light in that little corner, and it is as if you have been transported, because everything is good now. And it may not stay that way for very long, because life is funny that way. But tonight will not be the last night you will glow with the calmness that is found in a thunderstorm. 

So you can rest peacefully tonight, love. Because things have a way of working themselves out. 

h