Big flat rain drops pelted down on the asphalt road by your house. You once told me that you love the rain, yet the lights in your room are switched off and the curtains are drawn in tightly. It made me think that maybe the reason why you don't peek out of your window anymore is me. Because you know that even after we fell out of love, I never did make it out of the mess. I never fell out of love of all the stupid stuff I grew attached to when I was with you. I never fell out of love of all your habits that I slowly made mine. I never fell out of love of the things you said you loved. Just like that I never fell out of love with the rain, the one thing that I have hated for a lifetime.
For a second, I imagined you holding the doorknob and smiling at me from the porch. So heartaching, isn't it? Yet it doesn't feel the same. I don't feel the heat ache as I am standing out in the rain looking at your house. My heart doesn't ache like it used to except that a new feeling has settled in. The bitter taste of emptiness and the inability to speak. Can I call it a feeling? I don't know but I hope I can. That way at least I'll be able to tell myself that I'm not yet rotting alive in my deathbed. Not just yet.
The clouds thundered above me, the one thing that used to scare me and then I would find an excuse to hide your arms. Now even the loudest crack in the sky can't make me move as I let the rain drench me. Ah...the rain. Rain, that's what it called isn't it? The soothing calmness of breaking inside because you loved it once? I still remember how much I hated the rain. Now you see, the difference you made in me. I'm letting that one thing drench me that once used to top my hating list. Why? The why is a simple reason. Because you said you love the rain.