Years ago, when I was broken hearted, not because he didn't love me, but because he did, I could never have imagined where all that heartache would lead. Inevitably, it lead me to a place I return to each time life is unkind. It's a place where I'm again reminded what it's like to be free, to laugh hard, to give without hesitation, and to love without conditions. It's a place where I speak a language only he understands, and where the colors he paints with are also the colors I use. I may never be with him again, the one who christened me Little Tornado, but because of him I know the woman inside that I'm still trying to get back to. And whether or not he holds my hand again, or smiles at me while we cross the street, I will forever know the place of beauty and peace, of coolness and heat, that place in me I return to long after everyone else has gone home.
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