This is personal, probably more so than anything I've written here to date. I just feel compelled to say something. It rained today. The skies clouded up and the rain fell, soaking the world below.
Rain is so unpredictable. It falls in buckets. There is no way to shelter the world from the drops descending rapidly from the sky. At least in the case of snow we are left with a soft layer of pureness, of white. But when the rain falls, no such beauty is left behind with us. Instead, we find ourselves with drenched clothes and dripping hair. And this time, as in any other time, the rain seemed to fall only for me, only to bring back all that it reminded me of and that I had tried to forget.
Rain is heartache to me and not only that, but it is the essence of what a breaking heart feels like. My heart broke while the rain fell. I wasn't ready for it. I was much too young. And yet, the rain didn't seem to care. I sat there that night and watched it fall, that first night when I was completely alone. But it wasn't the clouds or the darkness that compelled me to stare, but the thoughtlessness of the rain that fell. It did not seem to care whose life it would tread upon. All was fair game. And I cried that night as I realized that just like the rain, my life was breaking apart and falling to the ground just as those individual drops.
I don't mean to bring a spell of a melancholy kind to any reader who may read this at some point in the future, but I can't help it. The rain always reminds me of an April nearly five years ago... five years. The rain fell that night and so many afterwards as a thirteen year old girl tried to piece together the reality of death and loss and imagining the rest of her life without the one person that made hers worth living.
The rain has no compassion. It's likely the rain will make us stronger. It's probable that because of it, our lives will flourish into new possibilities that may not have otherwise existed. But once it falls, there is nothing that can take it away. And so much can be lost forever... so very much.
So I sit here and watch the rain falling in its peculiar way and a part of my heart aches. See? I promised many of my blogs would be of little or no interest to you. I simply felt compelled to write. To smile, I often sing. To smile, I often strum my guitar. But to feel joy and often alive again, I write!
It is still raining...