Picture this; you’re stood out on the roof of your apartment building, and the smell of a storm is in the air. You know the one… it’s like freshly cut grass, rain and regardless of the time early, early morning, when you wake up for no reason at all and it’s cold and you open the window anyway to feel the bite of it on your face. And there’s this electricity in the air like there’s already been lightning but it’s everywhere, connecting you to every little bit of your surroundings. The sheet you left out to dry is swinging lazily even though there isn’t the slightest bit of wind but everything else is eerily still and so wonderfully quiet, all of the noises of the city muted, held, like a sudden intake of breath. Every living thing is waiting for the inevitable. I love that. It’s how I feel with you, though, the calm before a big storm. Like something completely out of my control is going to happen, a literal force of nature taking hold of the world. I feel helpless. I feel terrified. But I also feel excited, and more at home than I ever have before. I feel ready for anything.