The Rising Sun

It all began when I pushed open the heavy door and took my first wary step onto the slippery wet floor.

The trees that once stood sting and intact lost their branches as casualties in the night's war.

Fallen leaves and rubbish are scattered across a once seemingly clean floor.

The drainage, although never clean enough to drink, has now gained a brown color, tainted by the dirt and rubbish that the storm brought ashore.

With a gust of wind, a gasp of fresh air moved from my lips to my lungs leaving a chill in my core.

It was easy to look through rose gold lenses and pretend the world was perfect before.

But now, with the rising sun reality has set in and we know we must do more.

The Sun Will Always Rise

Lightening strikes and thunder bolts rumble, as a storm slowly gains momentum before it rains down on the world below it.

Water pours from the sky with such force that it feels like the tiny droplets have joined together in an army,
and are charging forward,
ready to wage war with gravity.

Water accumulates, crashing down on the earth below, destroying flowerbeds and over-saturating the soil with the very nutrient it needs to survive.

Then suddenly, the worst is over and the pitter patter of the rain begins to soften into a soothing lullaby.

The dark night begins to fade; the harsh storm now a forgotten memory, although its scars can still be seen.

Clouds, now much lighter, can easily give way to the newly rising sun, preparing to heal the wounds the storm left behind with its warmth.

I'm a worse case scenario type person.

I'm a worse case scenario type person. 

And that's not some Millennial way of telling you I'm scared or fear new things. 

This is something that literally defines me in every moment, every second of my life.

It means when you're thinking "what's the  worst that can happen?" 

I'm imagining it and weighing my odds thinking "but what if it does happen?"

When I was younger, I was playing on the stairs with my cousin and in the very moment I looked away he suddenly got off balance and fell. 

"He could have hit his head". My aunt told me later. "He could have died"

"But he didn't," I argued back, more so because I was ashamed. 

"He didn't. But he could have. Is that a risk you're willing to take?" she'd said. 

So now when you tell me I'm too uptight or expect me to calm down or relax, I can't help but do just the opposite. 

I hear her words echo in my head and my whole body tenses up in of fear of letting something slide. 

Years later, I stared at the ceiling through tears in my eyes wondering how my best friend could just forget all about me. 

I thought about all the time we had spent together and felt rejected and abandoned. 

"Was it worth it? Was any of it real?" I found myself asking that day in the dark room

Did all those great memories make the pain feel like less?

So now when you say I love you, I imagine all the ways you could be trying to manipulate me.

 And how these words so sweet out of your mouth are drenched in expectation. 

I imagine the pain I'll feel when I'm no longer good enough or when you're simply bored of me. 

I think about all the worst parts about me and how one day I'll drive you away. 

You ask me why I think so much, why I bite my lip and stare blankly into the distance. 

This is why. This is me. I'm a worst case scenario type person.