You once told me you loved sunsets, so I began to see you in all of them. Subconsciously at first, just a glance at the crimson stained sky and memories of you. Sometimes the intensity of the melting colors would warm me the same as your laugh. And as the weeks turned to months I would await the arrival of dusk just to see you in a way no one else could. Having you as my sunset was my own secret, it still is.
But when the storm came and the day sky turned purple with anger and despair, I spent my first night without a sunset, my first night without you. I fought with the thunder, sure that it's low rumble was no match for my rolling tears. I screamed at the lighting and it's violent rage feeling it had no right to lash out while I had every right. My heart had been saturated in the gloomy rains of that sunsetless night. And I would never be the same.
Why did you choose sunsets? Why couldn't you have seen beauty in the lakes? Or in the mountains? I can get by without a lake. They're often muggy and uncomfortable. I can escape the mountains, so long as I try. But sunsets are inevitable. No matter where I am in the world, there will always be a sunset. No matter where I run no matter where I hide or how hard I try to escape you, I will always see you. Everyday. In the most beautifully painful way. You've ruined the sunsets. But in that poses the question; would I have wanted it any other way?
