It's always windy in Wyoming
It's always windy in Wyoming. It's always something but me and her, which is all I ever thought I would need.
The weather is like a woman, and like a specific woman. It's never the same, but it's always there, reminding you that you live in her world; she does not live in yours. Like the wind, she tore past you, went through you, left you alone, wondering and waiting and lost. The weather changes quickly, and so did she when she went right through you. But, unlike the weather, she changed you, humbled you, and made you hers.
Like the weather, she reminds you that you are almost insignificant, and she can warm you or chill you to the bone, but it isn't because she cares or does not. Like the weather, she is what she is. You prepare for her. She doesn't even notice you. The wind does not want or need or even know you are there. It does what it does. You can't even see the wind, but you know it is there.
I wait for her to shine on me again, just like the sun on a cold day, I beg for her return. But we don't dictate the weather, and I certainly don't dictate anything to her. One has only to wait, and sometimes wait some more, for the sun to shine again.
Don't think too hard about or expect too much from these words. They are mere words which can only try to understand such a phenomenon. She's more than a woman. She's the world — including the weather — to me. I can only understand her in part, and even if I had the rest of time to know her, I would still see only parts and never the whole.
I do know this: she makes me feel like my heart cannot contain her, but like it will fail trying. She ravages but restores. She disappears and my whole being complains. She smiles and it feels I am made whole. What is the end of a man who feels so much? The end, my friend, is a man who loves much, and that is all there is to know. You know you love someone when they leave and it doesn't change how you feel. You know the future when time passes and you still feel the same.
My advice. Don't fall in love with a common woman. All of your longings for and all of your thoughts of her will be common, too. Instead, fall in love with the loveliest creature you can possibly find — regardless of her actual attainability — because even your drabbest thoughts of her will be magic, and even on the coldest night of the year, and even if she never knew you at all, and even if she will never feel the same for you, she will keep you warm. That's what I did. I found the best. I fell in love. I don't have regrets. She'll be the only woman I will ever love with such a perfect and fiery fierceness. The first and last. And unattainable, too. Try harnessing the ever-preset wind of Wyoming, and maybe you'll understand. Just like the sun, the rain, and the snow, every day is a gift, even though we don't understand or see the whole picture. And just like the rest of the days that God gave me, the time I had with her was a gift for which I will always be grateful, like being kissed by the sun.
Thank you for reading, and God bless.
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