The sheets of rain lash down, almost maniacal in their resolve to pound everything in the way.
The lightning flashes blindingly. For a split second, there is silence, followed by the booming thunder nearby.
The water pounds and pounds. The thunder rumbles. The lightning comes again.
The storm is hitting my windshield and the wipers struggle to move the water. Their back and forth motion is hypnotic — and I wonder whether the storm I feel and hear and fear is really outside — or if it’s inside my heart.
It’s dark and it’s loud and it’s gloomy. The storm outside the car threatens me physically, but the storm inside threatens something far deeper. Far more existential. It’s pounding on my very core again.

As I faced my father’s narcissism, I had to confront who I’d become
I was in love with her voice and didn’t want that call to ever end
Every addiction is heart’s effort to fill inner hole that requires love
Father who I saw as Mr. Morality turned out to be a liar and a thief
FRIDAY FUNNIES
If the truth is blurry in your mind, how can you explain it to others?
Wishful thinking: Why Ron Paul can’t (and won’t) be elected president
If you need vacation from spouse, maybe you married wrong person