Two simple words, yet so infuriating.
That’s all we ever do. We calm down.
We keep silent, sealed under a block of ice. But global warming has had its effect on us. We are polite and we are isolated.
And then sometimes we fight. A storm breaks out under our roof, loud and unbearable to be in. You lose yourself in shouts and tears and you think: “This is it.” But it never is.
Even before the tears have dried, even before the fire has died down, we return to being ice. It’s easier to be ice than fire. Less painful.
When I hear shouting I am not even surprised anymore. And even though I know it will all be over soon, we will be ice again soon, I try to make things better and doing so I make it worse because these storms bring out the worst in me. They bring out a side that I prefer to hide from the world, from my friends and from my family, unless there is a storm.
I rarely shout myself, rarely, but I do. I cry a lot when there is a storm.
My fight or flight instinct kicks in, I want to run, but I don’t have anywhere to go here. My friends live far away and I don’t want to bother them. After all, this storm is nothing but a small outbreak. It may feel awful, but it’s just what families do, isn’t it?
This is not Syria, not the Ukraine, not Africa. This is my home. It is cold and sometimes we forget about it. And then it’s too hot to handle and after that is when it’s the coldest.
Not long ago, about fifteen minutes ago it was hot as hell. The storm was raging under our roof, it was loud and all I wanted was to leave. Some did.
And I lost myself. I shouted and now I’ve lost my voice. And I am still crying. I was not surprised.
But it’s cold again now. My mother is on the sofa, my father is on the computer, my sister is in the attic and I am in my room. It’s like it always is when we are at home at the same time. We are rarely in the same place.
Experience tells us that doesn’t end well.
Right now; do you know the feeling when it’s winter and you notice you’ve been outside for too long, your feet are freezing and you feel awfully tired and all you want is to get into a warm place, somewhere your toes can warm up, where you can rest from feeling so exhausted; that’s how I feel. And I know that something has to change so that I can finally warm my hands by the fire without burning myself.
Until that happens, until we stop exploding and imploding – I calm down