When I first met Phil, I had been ecstatic. He had helped me through tough times, and I had been waiting forever to meet him. I had hoped that with him, I might change. I had believed that he would save me from myself. I needed saving, I was so desperate that I desperately held on to the belief that this was the lifeline I needed.

I wasn't completely wrong. Since 2009, we had done incredible things together. We were boyfriends, although only our close friends and family knew, and together we had travelled the world, been on tour, written a book, and created a universe to share with the internet.

But my curse still plagues my mind. It has been hidden so carefully, but it has never disappeared, it is still there in my mind. It controls everything I do, how I act, what I say, even what I think.

See, I have an extra ability. Something you might call a superpower.

I can change the weather.

And I hate it.

Because it's not something I can control, instead it's mostly based on my emotions. I can't really explain how it works, but I don't need to. All I need to know is that I am a danger, and that I must do everything to make sure I don't hurt those around me. So, I hide my emotions, I detach myself from my own feelings, and try not to hurt people.

Since I was 16, I hadn't hurt a soul. Until yesterday.

I don't know what happened. I just suddenly remembered how incredible it was to be free. Even though I've had very few problems in the last few years, I suddenly thought back to when I lived without restriction. I remembered the feeling of power as I watched lightning streaks flash across an inky black sky, and I realised I can never have that back, because to have it I would have to sacrifice everyone else's safety.

I started to cry, and the sky cried with me. I became afraid of myself once again, and that only made it worse. I locked myself in my room last night, and silently cried myself to sleep, only to wake this morning still asking the same questions.

What if I lost control completely? What if I got angry? What if I hurt someone? What if I hurt Phil?

I could never live with myself if I hurt Phil. He's helped me so much in these last years, even though he doesn't know it. I wish I could tell him everything, but I won't. He should be free to live his life, and he shouldn't have to be dragged into this.

"Dan," Phil calls from the kitchen, distracting me from my thoughts, "I'm going to buy stuff for pancakes. Are you coming?"

"Phil, it's almost midday. Aren't pancakes for breakfast?" I reply.

"I've just woken up," he reasons, "Anyway, are you coming?"

I look up from Tumblr, and glance outside the window too check the weather. It's still raining. I don't think I could face going outside, seeing what I've done, after I swore I wouldn't do it again.

I tell Phil I'm not going, and he complains I haven't left the house in forever. But he can't persuade me, and eventually he goes shopping alone.

I continue to think the same thoughts I've been thinking since I went to bed last night, still as angry, confused, and terrified as I was before.

I hate this feeling. I feel powerless against everything, incapable against myself.

Desperate attempts to change my thoughts are useless, and Phil returns to find me in my room, crying like a baby.

"Dan," he says, "what happened?"

I dry my eyes, and consider telling him the truth, but I can't. I lie, and say I went back to sleep and had a nightmare. He seems to believe me, and leaves to make pancakes. I sigh. I don't like lying, especially not to my boyfriend.

I check outside. It's raining heavier, almost hailing, and it's also very foggy. Thick fog, that conceals everything I can usually see from the window.

Fuck it. I'm going back to sleep.