melted

the calm after the storm

i jolt awake to the roars of thunder. part of me forgot what lightning looked like, what lightning fails to look like. white light blinds the blinds that protect my eyes. half-awake, swarmed by a tsunami of wind and rain.
when i look down i am instantly in the eye of the hurricane. perhaps i may even be home free of the wicked weather. three hours early and yet his words soothe as if he is behind me, smoothing soft reassuring salve across my sloping shoulders.
the realization that maybe lately the fragility i withhold has found it more comfortable to strike out is a compound fear. one part worry, one part frustration, one part disgust. i forget how to speak in front of him now, i am desperate to. desperation takes the form of a god i forget to pray to, a silent atmosphere that tears are cushioned in. god, i say, i love him so much. the thought of loving someone as deeply as it seems i do is terrifying. the words started with him but the thoughts spiral down, an arrow in my foot. i am rendered incapable of walking. on nights spent alone movement is a foreign concept, the language unattainable and frustrating. my stomach burns and i wish to force the acid back down if it means later on, there will be more time to kiss him instead of worrying over my breath.
the night i fall asleep in his arms is the same night he meets them. a dinner table filled with the best people i know. he is not one for small talk so he listens, listens until he is dragged away to a couch i spent a year on. he makes me feel small in a good way, a way i didn't know i could feel. breaking down is easy with him. the night before i asked him why it was that he let me sit with him time and time again, i spent it writing a twelve-page research paper. the evening he takes my breath away on the park hill melts into the midnight he holds my head in his hands and says only you did great.
i cry in the mornings when there is barely light to see him in, silent tears. i ball my hands up under the bedsheets and rub circles into my palms like he would, and when the rain stops i am blissfully unaware, asleep as the tide drifts dreams into my peripheral vision, calmed. the storm is over but he persists, jagged rock polished to gemstone, a standing man more pristine than the most flawless of crystals.