Hurricane

You tumbled upon my life, by accident, bringing with you hurricanes to replace the slow autumn winds that were my life.

And so the adventure began - I got tangled into your hurricane, helplessly. And being the hopeless romantic that I am, I felt harder, fell harder, until there was no more to fall, treasuring every moment of it.

Late-night texting to sneak out of the house, cuddling under a blanket to have midnight picnics in the moonlight, watching cheesy r-rated movies just so we could make out in the backseat of your car, holding hands on rooftops as we watched the sun blush to a plum hue - we did it all. Your kisses - gentle, soft, just brushing past my lips, but pulling me right into your wind-rattled life. I could feel myself being dragged into your web, and yet, I could not stop.

We were powerful. We were one. And you placed me right in the eye of your hurricane, where nothing could hurt me.

But every time our entwined fingers would make my heart tingle, I'd realise that sparks were fleeting, momentary, born to end.

And so it did with yours. Just as you had entered, you left. The last a saw of you was your cab pulling out of the driveway as you took your paltry possessions and drove out, while chirping birds were welcoming the morning sun. And so, you shielded me from it all - from everyone and everything, but you. And it was you, my hurricane, my strength, that became my weakness.

I was left with nothing but your scent on my t-shirts, the feel of your fingers creeping up on my skin, your undying presence in all my favourite spots of the city and unforgettable imprints on my heart. And so, as always, you, the hurricane, had been disastrous, inconsiderate, uncaring, unforgiving, unbiased and blind, making yourself impossible to be forgotten.