And the thunder rolls

I received an unexpected jolt yesterday. I was over at a neighbor's house, just chatting for a few minutes before continuing on with my day. We're not close, my neighbor and me, but we are friendly. As we're chatting, she asks me when that guy is going to come back. She goes on to say that after watching me be so sad with my ex-husband that she was glad to see me with someone who made me so happy, and we made such a cute couple. /wrists

"That guy," of course, is Randy. Because we're not close, my neighbor and me, she had no idea we're not together anymore. With him being so far away, it was not unusual for it be be several weeks between visits. So why was this a jolt? Because, up to this point, people have only seen the "me" side. They saw me happy, they saw me lonely, they saw me heartbroken, but it was always and only me. What Kim saw was "we," and I had no idea. Now there was someone who had witnessed my joy, my happiness. She saw the "we," could bear witness to its existence, and somehow it made the pain worse. It wasn't me claiming happiness, it was someone declaring "Yes, you were happy. I saw it."

Yesterday brought the storm. It seems appropriate that the weather would echo my heart, the rain like unchecked teardrops that won't be shed, the wind whipping tree branches like hands that won't grasp and pull hair in grief. I laughed as the thunder shook the world with screams that won't be uttered. And the tornadoes. The manifestation of brain and heart warring over wants and deserves.

The Goddess of the Storm.