Hurricane

I love it.

There's a hurricane outside. Well, for an Arizonan like me, it sure seems like a hurricane. The palms are swaying violently. The rain comes down like icy daggers. And the wind is rattling the door, like an unwanted visitor begging to be let inside. I'm completely drenched.

I love it.

I took my glasses off and put them in my jacket pocket to keep them safely away from the angry raindrops. And then I looked up to the sky, standing in the midst of the tempest. My hair was blown about, and the rain pierced through my clothes.

I love it.

It makes me think of the movie The Notebook. How I love that part, when they are both standing in the rain, in eachother's embrace. How I wish I had someone else. But no, here I'm standing in the rain by myself. Alone.

I hate it.