Rain

It was just one of those days when everything seems to be going fine. Normal. Like the routine game that I play everyday. Only, it wasn’t. How was I supposed to know? How was I to realize that on that day, everything would turn my entire life around? It was like my entire life was a fraud. I don’t know. I didn’t know. That was the problem. I needed to see and read between the lines. But I forgot and allowed my guard to disperse. I gave myself vulnerability.

You were the only one who could break me from this nightmare that reoccurred. You were the only one who listened and understood when I couldn’t think straight. You helped me through my problems as usual when I couldn’t see the sun in the sky behind the clouds and raindrops. I used to hate the rain before you. Now, I don’t. It gives me a feeling of comfort and ease. It helps me seclude myself from the world so I can hear your voice dancing in the winds, just gallivanting. You whispered your words so softly that I could barely hear them.

In the end, was it all worth it? Maybe it was. Maybe I loved you. Maybe I couldn’t, can’t, live my life without you. You make me feel complete. You make me feel like I’m your world. You make me feel. You’re not here anymore to do that. I don’t have a reason to believe in the rain.

I remember the first time you introduced yourself. You were just a synthetic angel; someone that I couldn’t believe existed, much less for me. You sat on the porch, inhaling your cigarette, staring out into the endless night. I asked if I could join you. You smiled.

“Did you know,” you murmured. “That the rain has healing qualities?”

I just laughed at your statement. The rain did nothing but dampen my eyes and release my tears. But you shined a whole new light in the rain on that night. You told me, showed me, the magic.

“It’s true. The rain is a cleansing of the soul. It lessens the pain in your mind. It’s the audacity that frightens me. It scares me into submission that it liberates my sins.”

I couldn’t get over the optimistic views you had on the rain. It was just something to ruin your clothes, a new hairstyle or just rust your bike. But you didn’t see that as a bad thing. I didn’t understand.

You caught a drop of rain in your palm and allowed it to slide down your arm.

“Look at the rain.”

At that moment, I was hooked and I knew it. I looked out into the sky and saw prisms of light pouring down on me.

“It’s beautiful,” I murmured.

There was just no turning back. You had gone and left me in the rain. I hated you for it. I hated you because you knew that you would leave and never come back for me. It’s been six months since you died. Did you think that I would forgive you? Did you think that I wouldn’t remember the first and last words you had ever spoken to me? All you said as you left was simple and elegant. You ended it with a flourish.

With love and the raindrops that never die out.

Then you left. You left me drowning under the darkest night and the deepest maelstrom of tears I had ever wept. Only they were beautiful. Sort of like the raindrops.