Understanding Together

You call out to me in the storm. I hear your voice, but I can barely make out your words. The violent rain interrupts us both. 

You repeat yourself louder and louder through the darkness. “We need to understand!” I agree, this storm will kill us, but I cannot see anything. I cannot find you. The dense clouds have long extinguished the moonlight. 

Lightning crashes and briefly illuminates something in the distance. Frozen, I wipe the rain out of my eyes, squint in the general direction of the structure, and hope for another bright strike to show the way. Mother Nature owns my fate. 

You are yelling louder. “Marshall, we need to understand each other! How can I find you?” 

A thought thunders in. Maybe the lightning will expose you. I stop looking toward the structure and search frantically yet again. 

My stomach drops. There isn’t time. You could be anywhere out here. I can’t keep track of where the lightning has struck. With a shiver, I realize that I’ve lost the structure. 

Your voice goes in and out with the wind. It grows more desperate with every gust. I feel the water in my shoes. I contemplate giving up. 

Right then, a fantastic streak of light arcs across the sky. I finally see you. You’re so far away and you’re running in the wrong direction. The lightning continues, revealing the bridge between us. 

Adrenaline overtakes me and I sprint toward the bridge with the last of my energy. I’m slipping, falling into deep puddles, cutting myself on the tree branches. You are screaming now, but sounding more and more distant. 

“We must understand! We must understand!” 

Exhausted, I throw myself under the bridge. As I lay there, I thank the storm for bringing me somewhere dry, somewhere safe.

Your voice pierces me yet again and I force myself up. I cup my hands around my mouth and call out to the blackness. “I’ve found a place we can stand under! We can stand under here together! Come here!”

I scream as loud as I can. I scream until my voice gives out. I can’t hear you anymore. I drop to my knees as the horrible reality hits me. 

You aren’t looking for something to stand under together, but me.