When I was young I used to welcome the dark clouds that came rolling in before a good storm. The change in weather was exciting. Rain in the desert, it was something to dance about. And so I danced.

 

The wind would violently shake the trees and my mother would tell me to step back from the window. It was dangerous. I loved every minute of  it. The coming of a storm was exhilarating. I welcomed it.

 

Now I am bitter. Bitter because I can feel the storm before I get the chance to see it. The deep ache penetrates to the center of my bone and sends a signal to my brain. Pain. Deep, incurable pain plagues my thought process.

 

This is my fate. I no longer dance in the rain, but rather I escape to my room and hide under the covers…. Waiting for it to be over.

 

Bitter is an understatement.

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