Bad Weather

Everybody leaves. That's one constant I've learned in my 18 years on this planet. Whether it's your parents or your best friend from kindergarten. Or your favorite relative, even just an acquaintance. They all abandon you. It's just a matter of when. When will the other shoe drop, when do they discover that you are not a refreshing summer rain, but a hurricane. When do they look beyond the bullshit and see the trembling, terrified child inside of you and realize, that they can't do it anymore. They just can't handle you. I know that I am crazy, I know that I have issues enough to fill oceans and sober thoughts most alcoholics would be scared to confront, I get it. I am insanity. I am the ticking of the clock, the sound of the page being turned, I am a puddle of anxiety, wrapped in insecurities, cloaked in mystery with killer heels and red lips inviting you into my trap. I know now. I see it. You see, I used to think that I was just a magnet for flight risks. That I was a lightning rod in a bad storm. I thought I must attract people who don't want to stay. But with 18 years of experience and one too many shots of vodka, I figured it all out. I'm not the lightning rod. I am both the storm and  the aftermath. I'm the damage, the power outages, the family coming home to nothing. I am my own destruction, and I know I should just keep building, but when you figure out that you're the storm, sometimes you just run out of courage to keep building.