(So I wrote this a long time ago, but I thought it might help someone out there. -EssayLove)
The weather has been pretty crappy lately. Whether an overcast forecast to match my moods is a boon or a burden, I have not decided. But the truth is, I really don’t like rain. Soggy socks and damp clothes peeve me. So I asked my friend yesterday why adolescents don’t bother with umbrellas (one of the finer inventions). He told me simply, he likes the way it feels. He likes the way it plays with his hair and the way it overcomes him. At the time, I think I agreed to disagree.
I gave my ex back his stuff yesterday. It befuddles me though, because the last time I checked, telephones work both ways. All I want to do is stop missing Labyrinth night and start being happy about it. But that’s when it hit me.
Rain comes and rain goes. First there’s high pressure, then there’s low pressure. Its an inevitable cycle. And when the precipitation stops, what do we have left? Well, yeah, there are the soggy socks and the damp clothes of course. But there are taller grass blades and that wonderful scent of wet leaves lifting off the sidewalk. Flowers can now grow from dirt.
Please note that the saturated belongings are immediately apparent. Flowers do not grow within a short shower.
I realized that I’m still me. I still whistle a lot. I still go out of my way to step on a crunchy leaf. And I still think more than you would ever care to. But now, my love has been expanded. I can also now talk about The Road and can make pasta with flour and an egg. I can now say that I’m one degree away from Jay Leno.
You’re supposed to be like rain to me. You come, you go. You gave me a few unfortunate things, but take nothing away. You disappeared like heavy clouds do, but my growth shows me that this isn’t entirely true.
So decked out in impermeable shoes, two jackets, a hoodie and a hat, I start to unravel. I closed my umbrella and welcomed rain, like I should welcome you.
But rain boots are still okay. They’re useful for puddle-jumping.