That storm that never quite became a tornado

I keep turning over a dream where I'm chasing a supercell that dies—says tornado warning, then the wall cloud just spins its wheels and vanishes into rain. No touchdown, but the sky keeps moving like a hungrier version of itself, all that energy going nowhere. Woke up more tired than if it had actually hit. Funny how my brain takes the one thing I can't control—whether a storm delivers—and reruns it at night.