They say that its always quiet before the storm. That there is this huge vacuum of everything and a giant silence. And in the middle of this gentle quiet, the clouds gather above while the molecules charge and fight and clash. And finding myself in this inner quiet in the bottom of all that is raging above, there is no calm, there is no quiet. Just when I had naively thought that there would be progress that we could at least talk, the storm announces that it is all over.
That nothing could salvage anything in between anymore. I wish I could shout now at the middle but the storm drowns everything out. I wish I could do something but the storm rages on. I wish I could always paint you smiles. I wish this was the start rather than the end.
I wish for many things but most of all I wish for you.
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