The storm on the roof

"I was outside when it started, no memory of walking out there, just already standing in a yard that kind of matched my grandparents' old place but bigger somehow, sky doing that greenish thing before a big storm hits. wind picked up fast, too fast, whipping around in a way that should've scared me but instead I just felt this buzz building, wanted to see it happen up close. thunder cracked and I didn't flinch, actually leaned into it a little, and lightning split the sky in a way that felt choreographed almost, too perfect, lighting up everything stark white for a second before dropping back to that green-gray. I remember laughing, actual laughing, out there getting soaked, rain coming down heavier every second, and not caring at all about being wet. somehow I ended up higher up, on a roof maybe, no memory of climbing there, just there, watching the storm roll across fields that stretched way further than any real fields near my grandparents' place. wind was strong enough I should've been scared of falling and wasn't, just planted, watching lightning fork out in these branches across the whole sky, feeling that thrill in my chest with each strike. someone was next to me at some point, don't know who, didn't turn to check, we were just watching together, and every crack of thunder felt like it landed inside my own chest instead of just the air, this pulse of excitement each time. rain stung a little now, sideways, and I turned my face into it on purpose, wanting to feel it more, not less. the storm kept building, never quite breaking into anything worse, just this constant electric energy the whole time, and I stayed up there soaking it in until it started fading out, colors softening, and I woke up still feeling that buzz humming under my skin for a bit, weirdly awake for having just woken up."