the wind

I wake up like any other day, the wind howling at me as always. I look outside, heavy rain. "Well, that's better than hail." I say with a sigh. I get out of bed and check the time, [7:27 A.M.] nice and early. I swiftly make my bed, nicely and neatly, before leaving my room. I walk to the kitchen, hearing the occasional rattling from the gutter caused by the intense wind. I stand there looking out the window, sleep still lingering slightly, making my brain foggy. I zone out before shaking my head softly, snapping myself out of it. I walk to the kitchen, grabbing a tea packet. ginger tea, I grab the kettle, fill it with water, and place it on the stove while putting it on high. I grab my morning tea mug. I call it this because, well, it's self-explanatory. I sit at the table, still drowsy, wanting to fall back into the comfort of my bed. The wind rushes harshly all of a sudden, It screams at me, demanding that I stay awake and alert. I look at the window with a slight twist in my gut, I know my windows are bulletproof for this reason, but every time the wind picks up, my heart drops momentarily. I hear a whistling, in confusion I look around and see the kettle blasting steam, causing it to whistle. I get up and pour the water into my mug, the tea bag already in place. I leave it there to brew. Every morning I stand outside to wake myself up. I walk over to the front door, opening it, and stepping outside I feel the harsh rain pelt against my skin in an endless barrage. I look to the sky watching the clouds swirl with each other in an endless dance. A dance of the gods some say. I stand there for a couple minutes, waiting, taking in a deep breath and breathing out. As it gets chilly I smile, I like the cold. I never knew why but I always have enjoyed it. maybe its because I've always hung around the cold areas of the world, or maybe its because I've always hung outside whenever it got cold, or maybe its because I know I can go inside and get cozy under a blanket, or a jacket.

I run inside forgetting that my tea is still brewing. i get inside and the tea is still steaming very softly, I take the tea bag out, waiting for it to stop dripping, I throw away the tea bag away. I take a sip of te ginger tea, memory's flooding back, tears threaten to fall. I take a deepbreath calming my nerves as I was taught by my previous therapist, although I haven't gone in months. Ive ignored several calls, I don't think they really want to help me. Why would they want to help a lost cause like me? Clearly I'm not helping them in any way, they keep setting me up with medicine. But why the fuck should I take them? I don't trust them in the slightest. I want them to stop trying to contact me, its already been 3 months since I've gone. I listen to the voicemails, the way she fakes the concern in her voice, with her soundproof fucking office. She's lucky she knows her office roof wont just leave. She's lucky she doesn't get kept up by the noisy wind howling at her too. Part of me wants to make her suffer, the way I have. But that's wrong. I'd be seen as a monster again.

That's why I moved here. All alone, miles away from anyone at all, and if I get a medical emergency, oh well. It's not like anyone cares about me anyways. I wish I had a punching bag, that is a thought I have often. Sometimes I feel it would be nice to punch something just to hit it, to get my anger out. To feel strong and in control again. Every day I wonder if I have even a single choice in this life. if it even matters. All we are is a piece of this world, a piece of this galaxy, a speck, invisible to the ever-growing universe. We are nothing, we are minuscule, we are meaningless. The universe will die at some point, and then it will be reborn, I know this, and I have since I was fifteen, it makes sense. If every black hole connects and pulls the rest of the matter on this plane together, the gravitational force might be enough to pull it in on itself, like it was when the big bang happened. and who knows maybe, just maybe I will be back here, living here all over again. If my pathetic and horrendous life repeats. I might just take it so I can't suffer more than I already have, so I can't hurt any others. I hate myself and this incessant wind howling isn't making this shit any fucking easier. part of me wonders if my theory is right, that I have gone through this before trillions of eons ago. It makes me feel worthless, meaningless, and cumbersome to others. It makes me feel like a burden to others who are bound to be thinking about the same stuff that I am now. That's why I've never asked anyone out.

I finish my tea and take a couple deep breaths. I'm overthinking, that's going to cause anxiety and stress. My therapist does care about me, and she's probably worried about me. She could tell I was going downhill, she's probably been hoping I didn't kill myself. I hear my phone ring, I answer it "Hello?" I ask, I hear someone exhale and laugh? "oh thank god you answered, I was getting really worried about you" It was my therapist. "Oh yeah, hey im sorry I haven't been answering the phone, I've just been" She cuts me off "Hey you don't need to explain yourself, I get it. you needed a minute and I can respect that." I felt shocked, she didn't scold me about how important it is to stay in touch. "Honestly im just so glad your ok. please come into office tomorrow, please, I know you've been avoiding it because its hard. But success doesn't come without struggle heartbreak and sadness." Reluctantly I agree "fine I'll go tomorrow." She seemed to beam even through the phone "Ooh thank you!"