Unrelenting Rain

Rain, unrelenting rain, has filled my life with memories.

I loved the rain.

When I was a child, I would sit for hours, watching the rain as the drops sparkled on the roses and the sun sent a rainbow across the sky. But that was years ago, before I knew the world.

I liked the rain.

When I was at boarding school, I would sit alone in my room, watching the rain as it fell in sheets, flooding the streets. The rain meant the car wouldn't come and I would be alone to enjoy my solitude. But that was years ago, before I knew love.

I dreaded the rain.

When I was newly married, I would sit alone in our apartment, watching the dark clouds build and pour the rain on the earth as I poured my tears over our newborn baby. The rain meant you would be kept away another lonely night, and I would be alone with my fears. But that was years ago, before I knew desperation.

I welcomed the rain.

When years passed and your love turned cold, I would sit with our daughter and watch the rain as it created rainbows for her and made her life happier. But that was years ago, before I knew the truth.

I hate the rain.

Today, I sit and watch the rain as a cold stone fills the place where my heart used to be. The rain means the taxi is late, and I may miss my plane. I used to love the rain, but that was years ago, before I knew you got drunk and killed our daughter.

Someday, maybe the unrelenting rain will wash my memories away.