Her Name is Hurricane

"Everyone who meets Chloe knows that she is a spinning hurricane that just sweeps through your life and then you wonder when she will hurricane back around."

I feel as if I should apologize. I never really thought my hurricane-ness was as bad as it sounds when others talk about it. I take over. Invade. In a good way mostly... until the one time I turned around and saw some of the casualties I left behind me. But I can't get back up close to provide aid...
I'm an aftershock waiting to happen.

The sunshine.
The smiles.
The laughter.
These are all the eye of my storm.
Take a few steps in either direction and you are asking for major damage - all in love.

I've learned to suppress and hold things back in a dark place until I am ready to deal with them. I call it the Scarlet O'Hara syndrome. "I'll think about that tomorrow."

The city... that is where I resolve things.
That is where I allow myself to swift through those tucked away thoughts and experiences and revive my soul, in order to go another round of war with this world.
This city, however, has an extra dose of healing.

Sun.
Sand.
Open skies.
The food, music, pace of life... these are all things that help my hurricane-ness catch a break.
At least I thought so.

But he reminded me, that isn't the case.
That everyone is still dealing with the aftermath of Chloe from 2 years ago...
My heart wasn't ready for it.
I came here to repair another cities scars, not this one.
He thanked me, we celebrated his new life in Christ. I was so blessed to witness it.
But he didn't leave out the parts where I knew what I was doing.
This is where my "I think I need to apologize" statement comes in.

What I try to block out and keep in the dark.
When I come here to deal with everything but that...
Still, it is a reality.
Much like when America forgets those impacted by storms, those in poverty across the street from us, I wanted to forget my own body count.

"Thank you for what you did for us. Thank you for seeing us."

My stomach was in a knot.
How can he say that when my own blood feels differently?
Add another body.

People wanted me to come here and rest, to prepare to thrive when I return.
That is usually how this goes.
"She leaves, cries, comes back, and we are good."
This one feels different though.
This one feels more like a separation has taken place.
Welcomed, received, expected... but I know there is a space here that once was, not is, anymore.

A man on the plane asked what I like to do for fun, when I'm not traveling the world, loving people.
I wish he knew how much fun I have doing that... because nothing else measures up.

Part of me is upset at myself for going through it all again.
For remembering.
For feeling it deeply, despite knowing the page has been turned over for awhile now.

Deep breath in. Closed eyes. Jump up.

I faced the waves so I could be free of my own hurricane, if but only for a few hours.