Storms {phan}

Why storms are named after people. Prologue

Things always tend to form a full circle to give closure in life, every last bit of the jigsaw falls into place, every last domino falls down in series. But us, Phil and I ? We feel incomplete. 
We didn't fall in love. The term "fall" describes something sudden, whereas we blended into each other's personality, melted in with the other person's interests till we couldn't distinguish ourselves as two different individuals, till we felt like one single entity, till the word 'love' seemed too small to describe what we shared. And since our story had a start resembling the way cotton candy melts in one's mouth, the fact that it was ending on a note similar to spontaneous combustion was leaving me numb all over.
We didn't fall In love, but right now, we sure as hell were skydiving out of it.

The metal surface of the pen left a cold impression against my fingers. I rolled it in my hand, it left behind a trail of an ice like sensation. Good I thought, any type of feeling inflicted upon my body is welcome right now.
Would it be dramatic if I described the sheet of paper laid nonchalantly in front of me as too white? White enough to make me squint my eyes.
I ran my fingertips against it's surface. Feels pretty real too.
It was the second consecutive day when we had found ourselves in this big boardroom, with a never ending wooden table, seated directly opposite each other. There had been managers, our own personal representatives and lawyers. As much as separation would hurt, this hurted more- tearing apart the entire brand of Dan and Phil wasn't just a money issue, it was our entire legacy.
And Phil wanted out of it.
Our entire management team had been bewildered, and honestly I couldn't blame them. They had tried to make us undertand the losses each of us would suffer financially, how breaking the brand would mean completely liquidating it. My lawyer had the audacity to confirm if we had a prenup, which we did, we weren't stupid when we got married we were mature adults ofcourse we had a prenup. The never ending discussions  went on and on but Phil wouldn't budge, so to continue the talks we had found ourselves in this icy, gigantic, professional boardroom/ the place I'll dread the most for the remaining of my life, once again.
Yesterday had felt even more unreal than today

It wasn't until I had woken upto black bedcovers instead of brightly coloured blue and green ones with the lack of long pale limbs entangled around my body with soft breaths upon my neck and the lack of the sight of a tussle of straight, black hair, had I realised or atleast managed to scratch the surface of believing that he had infact left me. And I didn't need a piece of paper to make me undertand that. The cold shifty looks, clenched jaws and eyes that would not meet mine under any conditions, were enough to leave a hole  in me, a hole which screamed- that perhaps we were now over. But as hard as I wanted to believe, it still didn't feel real. It felt like a dream, I was light headed, I couldn't make out anyone except him and everything was fogged. It wasn't the idea of him that gave me blinding agony. It was his presence. It was him himself as a human being. He caused me the kind of pain I can't begin to tend because each blow was a cut running bone deep.

There had been only a handful moments in my life where the line between reality and some virtual-parallel universe, had blurred.
Immense happines to the point of ecstasy, pure moments of joyful awe, feeling of being loved and loving someone at it's epitome and the serene impact of being satisfied. These were those points in my life where I had to ground myself into believing it was all real by holding onto something stationary, something constant, something unmoving which would hold every piece of my existence down.
And it used to be him.
Philip Michael Lester.

The irony is that he was the cause of it in the first place. He was the reason why I questioned every real and tangible thing in my vicinity, because the amount of happiness I experienced had infact seemed out of the world, blurring everything I knew to be concious with the unconcious.

He had taken me to places unimaginable, sometimes with his words and sometimes merely by his presence itself. And now turn of events had changed my entire universe.  I can't visit those places again, I can't relive those memories without tasting him like blood in my mouth.
Sharp.
Metallic.
Scarlet.
And painful.

He has managed to destroy me in  every beautiful way possible. 
He has left me. And now I finally get it.

I understand
why storms are named after people.