BREAKING NEWS

I know you aren't God, or Mother Nature, but if you were the one who patterned the winds and called the rain I'm telling you - 

I'd wake up to black clouds and the birds would be chirping everywhere - not knowing why. Because even though the sky looks daunting as hell fire, you make something stir quietly inside me. Like something's going to happen. Like something's going to happen. You were trying to prepare me for something. "Double knot your laces, love, we're flying south for winter."

After breakfast with apprehension, the rain begins to fall. I ease back and allow myself cider in the bathtub.

But you never give me what I want for long.

Because by lunch the slow rain is over the mountain and In the valley you're casting winds that bend my trees over backwards in the front yard. The top branches touch the other's middles and lean into each other for support. But maybe they don't even want it. Maybe they're trying to stand tall on their own. Maybe they're just helpless victims of the harsh winds. We're all victims of your harsh winds. Me and they rest of them.

I keep thinking that if I ignore you, the winds will stop. The trees will fix their posture, straighten their collars. I'd invite you in for dinner. Small talk about everything but the weather. The napkin goes on your lap. Do you take sugar in your tea? I've forgotten. Yes, let us say grace. It's funny how manageable life can be with a plate of spaghetti and the right dinner guest --- This is how easy the world can look. But I don't really believe it.

I'm expecting an earthquake. Tsunamis and tidal waves and flash floods and lots and lots of hail hail hail. I try to inhale and exhale calmly enough so the tornado will just rock me to sleep. I want the winds to feel cool at my back to rattle my hair into soft waves. Maybe after everything you would end with a drought. Cruel of you, but it's kinder than what I know is inevitable.

I almost loved you, you know. I thought about maybe going there. I thought about which one of us would say it first and if I would play hard to get if you were the one who finally caved.

I'm in bed and preparing for the worst. Waiting for the storm of everything sweetening and a downpour of iloveyous - THE ULTIMATE KATRINA. Send me Haiti relief backpacks and the Red Cross SWAT team. Damage so bad that Mormon families would be building MY house for Christmas instead of those in Mexico. The rubble was going to bury millions and we would run away from the radiation. "Let us go then you and I" running away from the radiation. Darling, I can still feel your burning radiation.

But nothing comes. The sky is quiet. The earth is breathing plant dioxide. 

Confusion. The neighbors come outside. Slippers. Robes. Curlers. Blankets dragging at their feet. Scratching their heads at the sky "but they said".... "CNN said to expect a cold front"... "It's a damn drought is what is it"... "Can I splash in the puddles?"..."Sweetheart where is your coat it might not be over yet."

It might not be over yet.

I don't know where you went or where I expected you to go but you never came. You never came. You never came. You never came. You never came. You have gray eyes. You never came. You never came.

I should be relieved. I mean I prepared for earthquakes. For the ground to split open. To not just fall in but to jump - dive head first gripping your hand. The tsunanimous rainwater making both our palms slippery I packed dried fruit and flashlights and water purifiers and a tin foil survivor blanket we could both fit so perfectly under.

Send me a dust storm or an alien drone attack. Anything. COME AT ME BRO. Because baby, It was supposed to break headlines.

"Estimated 1,258,923 in 10 states are without power"

"Flood-prone homes evacuated at 5pm EST"

"Manhattan residents living below 36th Street may experience electrical shortages"

"Bodies remain unidentified"

"GLOBAL WARMING WAS NOT A HOAX"

Truthfully and embarrassingly, I don't know how to end this. The people were expecting a finale. Something the news anchors couldn't have warned them about. But I can't even write one because I don't know what happened. I really don't. We were on the phone and you started a sentence and stopped after the second word. I said say it. You said no. I said say it. You said no. I said just say it. You said I don't want to. I said okay. You said okay. And I hung up. 

I feel like the neighbors, confused as hell, looking up at the sky like "that's it?". Is that really it? 

The sun is out. A few pink clouds. Not too humid. Just a bit of fog on the horizon. Weather man suggests umbrellas and a light jacket for the absence of arms wrapped around me.