Thunderous

We made thunderstorms envious with our electricity. We could light up the world with our touch. That was all we ever were. A storm in the making. When you appeared at my door, towering over me with your charm, I knew what we could never be. 

He was not the definition of prince charming handsome, instead he was villanously handsome. He would extinguish faster than he ignited. We met on Bumble. I thought that was considered the dating app of the more safe and mundane. The first date was just a dream, something to try and subdue me to his true self. He came over, and instantly I could feel it, the energy, the pull. 

We went out, and I peppered him with questions, and he answered. Even the questions that most men would try to avoid. We laughed, we talked, we walked, and smiled. He was the epitome of what I so craved. I thought I had met my match. We were like a game of tennis, feeding one another's void. 

We dated, or shall I say we were seeing one another.  He was a temptation. He was the fire and I was willing to ignore the danger. 

But then one day everything came crashing down. 

I had to go to work, and he had a softball tournament. By my second shift, he was begging me to leave work early. I thought it was sweet. He couldn't withstand being away from me. Truth is, he couldn't stand not being in control. He liked everything I could give, I was the girlfriend, I was the match. His jealousy was flattering when in truth it was sickening. I allowed myself to mold him into my ideal dream. 

That night I did what he requested, and I managed to get off work early. I picked him up from his friends and we went to dinner. That night his body language seemed off, he wasn't sweet or cute. Instead, I felt more like a bro than I did a woman. Once we had finished dinner, we headed back to my car. The plan was for us to have a night out. I was beyond excited, I had the perfect outfit to wear. 

His phone alerted us he had a notification, it was from the boys. He simply stated, "Drop me off at the bar, you can pick me up after I am done." 

I could feel myself start to boil, the anger in me turned to rage. I simply looked at him and nodded and drove him to his destination of choice. He got out of the car barely before I allowed myself to leave him in the smoke. 

I got home, fuming and embarrassed that I was somebody's second option. I was made to be first. I don't get left behind. I am more. I leave before they can. I never realized that we were both playing a game, except at this point I was a step behind. 

That night I cried, because I managed to become the girl that could be put on a leash. I promised myself after you I would never allow that to happen again. I decided to call a friend, she came over and we drank the alcohol you brought while putting on the outfit that was meant for you that night. 

We went back to her place, and she helped me create the image of the night I declared I wanted to be. That night I danced, drank, and forgot about men who made me lower myself to their standards. Drinks were given, smiles were reciprocated, and I flirted... But all I truly wanted was for him to show up. All I wanted was for him to pick me. That night my phone wouldn't stop buzzing, so my friend took it. Allowing myself the freedom to just be. 

The bar lights turned on, and I was left to my devices. I quickly glanced at the latest text. He was coming. How? I didn't know. I rushed my friend to take me home, and she did. She knew the truth. That I was caving. That I wanted to wait for him. 

The alcohol of the night though pulled me into a deep sleep. 

I awoke to the sound of a thunderous voice. My name. Each syllable sounds more irritated than the previous one. I stumbled into the other room trying to identify where the voice was coming from. I recall looking out the window and there he was. A face a shoulder, a grizzly bear of a man trying to enter the hole of a mouse. I stared, confused and wondering if I was dreaming. I mean I had to be. How does one climb a house to the second story? I decided I must be dreaming, and went back to bed. I awoke less than 10 minutes later. There he stood. In my room, furious. He was shaking, and screaming. I tried to rub the sleep and confusion out of my eyes, his voice only getting louder. I stared dumbfounded, wondering how he got into my house. 

That night I closed my eyes, believing I would wake from the dream. 

I woke, not to a dream, but a nightmare. 

I was still half asleep when I felt his touch and saw his cat-like smile. " I have to go to practice." I didn't say anything, instead, I allowed myself to be pulled back into my slumber, hoping this was all just a dream. 

I then stirred, realizing the sound of my car. I quickly looked out the window and saw that my car was gone from the driveway. He managed to take my car. I couldn't do anything, or so I thought. so I slept. I felt the bed dip and was starled to see him there beside me. 

Finally, everything came crashing down upon me. 

I was the second option, I was a toy, and I was just his amusement. My body felt sore, and I recalled the drinks and dancing. I also recalled him and the window. He stared, realizing the pieces were beginning to make sense. 

He had managed to walk to my house, break-in, and steal my car. 

He could see that I was about to speak, but then simply turned the tables on me. 

"Do you know how I got in?" he stated. 

I wanted to say yes, but I also wanted to hear him confirm that he scaled my house and broke in. 

Instead, he decided to play the victim. I was the bad one, I never picked him up from the bars, I made him walk, I didn't let him in. He knew how to make himself look like the sob story. I just stared. I had no words. He seemed to be put off but still wanted to play this twisted game. I decided to forfeit. I wouldn't feed his ego, I wouldn't feed his twisted soul. 

He got up and walked away. I managed to follow him, praying he would leave. Instead, he showed me how he managed to climb my house. I stared and kept my mouth shut. Finally, he was silent. We looked at one another and we both knew. It was over. I had managed to break him into a frenzy of deranged. I hadn't realized that the guy I had been seeing was just simply that unhinged, broken, and selfish. 

He walked over to me and hugged me. I hugged him back. Maybe because in truth aren't we all a little deranged. I whispered into his ear, "Goodbye whiplash."

He pulled away and walked out of my life. 

I will miss one thing, that boy knew how to kiss. 

But 

I guess 

so do all

 the 

insane.