In the heat of summer, a thunderstorm is unforgettable. Short lived, but significant. It holds you under its clouds, blocking out the unmoving sun. Your tears washed away by the passion of the storm. A metallic tang of the electricity in the air surrounds you. The rain, soft and all consuming. Memory of the heat quickly escapes you, lost in the whirlwind. Forgotten. Until the last lightning strikes. And the last raindrop falls from a crying sky.

Suddenly, it's as if the storm never existed. That same dead sun hangs in the sky above you once again, accompanied by the overwhelming heat. It's all the same as it once was, but worse. The heat is hotter. The sun, even more piercing. The pain, worse than imaginable. Worse because now you know how absolutely amazing life could be. Life in the storm. And we ask ourselves, was it worth it? Were all the screaming winds worth it, when all we have left is an echo? Was it worth it just to suffer? They say it's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all, but is that true? 

Were those months together worth it? The memories we made, the sacred nights? Even after all these years I still dream of her. Those blue eyes, haunting me like the memory of rain.

So was it worth it?


I'm not sure. I wish I could ask her. But, I do know if I was given the chance, I would do it again.