The kitchen sink has been dripping for three days now. I can still hear it ring in my ears even when I’m at work. The air conditioning only works in winter. I want to fix it but I just can’t motivate myself to do it. The walls are starting to crack, yet I vividly remember watching you fix them just months before. The washing machine broke down. I still like to go to the laundromat even though I know how to fix it. The floor is creaking with every step. I can’t bare the thought of replacing where you once stepped though. The electricity doesn’t turn on. The circuit works, I just hope that one day you’ll fix it like you used to after a storm. That’s what we were. A storm not a hurricane, just a small storm that was circulating the same town for years until finally we erupted. Into thousands of lightning bolts and rumbling claps of thunder. We were destined, to destroy the town and rip up the ground. But not for each other. We were bound to fit the path of devastation and destruction. Scheduled to shatter and clash anything in our path, merged as one. But never together.