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Mess.

This week I remembered something I read way back during Irene.

“Get the hell inside,” you say, “you are important to me. If you die, a part of me will die too. I love you.”

Because in a storm, that’s all you see. It’s what you love, at risk, and then everything else, but everything else fades away. A complicated world is made simple, and you see that it was always like this. You know what matters, and you go to it.

Standing so far removed from the hurricane is a new experience for me. Until now, I’ve always been in the thick of the really scary stuff alongside my people. Today, all I can do is tell you that I love you — I really, really love you — and that I’m thinking about you.

Be safe.
“Why We Love Storms” on Thought Catalog

I’m pretty sure these leaves were in Austin, but — they’re leaves. It’s hard to tell.

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