You were a storm but I needed the sun.

I can’t remember how I started surviving without you. That part of my life became a blur because I wanted to live through it fast enough to forget. But I remember the pain I felt when we said goodbye. I never thought emotional hurt could become physical, but at that moment it did. It was a stabbing pain straight to the chest. How long it lasted for, I can’t remember. But I know I learned to live with that dagger in my chest — I carried it with me day in and day out until the day came when I just realized I’ve pushed it back so far in, it’s almost out of my back.

And one day it just fell off. You didn’t hurt anymore.

Yours was the kind of love that thrived on the adrenaline of a free fall. You took me and jumped. It was a hurried kind of love, a love that was a storm. It started as a steady trickle of rain that quickly gained its pace and turned into a full blown storm. But like all storms, this love too, came to pass. When you left, the rain stopped, the clouds parted and the sun blinded me.

You were a storm, but I needed the sun.

It was real, though. No matter how temporary or how fast the storm passed, what we shared was real. But it had to end. It was not the kind of love that nurtured our souls. It was not the kind of love we needed.