I could argue there was something romantic or intriguing about how I sat by my window at 3am indulging in the magnificence of it. It was familiar to me as though I should have been the subject of a novel - a tragic love story like Wuthering Heights perhaps, or maybe the tragic story of a reckless teenager. This is because to be Romantic with a capital letter, destruction and tragedy is as much a part of its enchantment as happiness and love, if not more so. This is why my mouth curled at the edges at each strike of lightning. Each sparking ideas in my mind, poetic words swimming around my head, Shakespearean phrases and philosophical wonder. My mind was full and so was my heart because life didn't feel meaningless.
However the storm was fleeting and so was my shameless, self-absorbed idealisation. There is nothing romantic or intriguing about destruction. There is nothing romantic or intriguing about the way you let the poisonous taste of vodka scald the lining of your throat or about the picked scabs at your crooked, fallen knees shaped like scattered islands on a map. Perhaps it just is. It just is.
The storm had manipulated my emotions to such an extent that my heart felt 'full' and this 'fullness' was affiliated with the battle in the sky. It was a mixture of sadness, happiness, awe and melancholy. It was the combination of such differing emotions that truly made me think. When the storm is over and I am suddenly conscious of reality again, there is no more intensity of emotion, nothing even close to how this storm made me feel. But then, in reality, that means there is also not deep sadness. I could see that as a good thing if I want to remain truly happy and content with life. But then again, that 'full' feeling is desirable and reality seems dull in comparison, even though I know that life isn't equal and we all get shitty shares of some of it - I should be happy with what I have. It's almost addictive and its hard to snap out of it when the temptation to indulge is so high like the way the temptation to scratch an insect bite predominates the forefront of your consciousness.
But just like all addictions, the less you give into it the easier it gets and all of a sudden you no longer remember the satisfaction of giving in. That's why the moments after the storm are the most disappointing; because the memory is fresh in your mind and you can't shake the feeling until a few minutes later when you can finally get used to the calm and quiet of the night. At least then you can sleep. Leave the dreams for then.
