Pluviophile

You never knew you loved the rain. The drops of water falling from the sky, hitting the umbrella in a rythm that’s almost musical. Listening… you take a minute….quiet down your thoughts and listen it’s relaxing. 

If getting rained on did no wrong… I’d sit outside in every storm.

Of course they are not always beautiful showers. The sky can get loud; roar like a lion in the dead of night just to show its might. Light up the night sky and cause shrills down the spine. Strike singular objects on plains as it proclaims its existence. 

But then morning comes, and it’s the smell of wet soil that awakens you.

Softly the sun rises warming up the sky, calling out to you to reach out and touch it. Calming.

Drip…drop…drip…drop… it begins again. You listen to the rain’s tune from the iron sheets. You turn to him and say

“I have to go now…”

You pick your clothes up, get dressed and at 6.00 am on a rainy morning you leave his house… content that you still have a future with yourself now that the relationship is over…and walk into the rain letting it embrace you as it’s music heals you.

If getting rained on did no wrong… I’d sit outside in every storm.

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