I am a Tornado

I am a tornado. In life. In love. In everything. Most of the time I don't want to be a tornado, I want to be a slow, warm breeze that barely caresses your shoulders. Sometimes I try. I tip toe through and try to be very gentle. "See, I'm just like everyone else," I whisper as I panickly look around to see if anyone can tell the truth. I may start off slow and calm, but the tornado always comes. Even then I try to hide it. "I'm fine." "Just a little stress is all." "No, that didn't hurt my feelings." "I most definitely am not crying." "Who says I'm yelling?" "Everything is fine. Everything is under control."  As shards of glass surround me and I wonder how I'll make it back by myself with no shoes and the wind still swirling.