Unromanticizing Rain

"You hate the rain?"

"Yeah.."

"How can anyone hate the rain?" She giggled at my preposterous suggestion, mocking me in her adorable ways.

"Well, I do. I've my reasons, pretty stupid ones. But so am I, so I'll let it slide."

Her adorable laugh echoed as she chuckled at my stupidity. She knows how dumb I am and how idiotic I can be.

"Won't you share them?" she continued, eager to know what ridiculous reason I could have.

"You already know all of them." I tried to end the topic.

"Come on, talk. You know you want to babble for an hour. Start your Tedx Talk, sir."

"Hah, you got me there. And I don't babble, shut up!" utterly aware that I do, in fact, babble.

Of all the people in my little world, she knows more about me than I ever understood. She gets me in a way every heart on the planet aches for. In all the tragedies and comedies, she feels like the only constant. In my tiniest insecurities, greatest excitements, pet peeves, guilty pleasures, nonstop ramblings on a few things, and utter silence for almost everything else, she has stayed for and through it all.

I extended my hands out in the rain; droplets rested on my open palms. "Yeah, no. I'm not too fond of the rain. The muddy shoes, the puddles on the path, the humidity in the air, the 'Uhh, I can't go anywhere cause it's raining' or the 'Uhh, why did I go out here in the rain?' or the 'Uhh, why didn't I go out 5 minutes earlier when it wasn't raining?' I don't understand why anyone likes rain. It's raining; why would anyone want non-consensual showers in public?"

And she laughed hysterically. God, how does she understand my broken sense of humor?! I know it's broken. While I get conscious or feel like a fool with everyone else, I can be the most bizarre with her, and all I think of is, "Stop encouraging me, or I'll end up even weirder." Why can't anyone else be like her? Why God, why!?!?

"But that's not the reason, right?" And just like that, she sees straight into my heart so effortlessly. With her, my life is like a one-sided glass. She peeks into my heart like a window, seeing me for what I am instead of what I pretend to be. And through her, I see a reflection of my true self. I can see myself beyond the humor, the lies, the pretense, the stories, the deflections. I can be vulnerable in front of her, because of her, for her.

"Yeah, it's not. Hope you didn't know me so well and we could leave as me being the funny one." She chuckled while I had my arms out to feel the raindrops.

"Yeah, it's just me. But you know what I really love? The autumn. I love the fall and can't wait for it to be here. All the paths are covered in this dusky hue of oranges and browns, reds and yellows. For once, the shivers I get in the weather are pleasant; they are cozy. I love the hues, the weather, the skies, and the falling leaves comforting me even when I'm strolling alone."

I felt her gaze adoring me while I continued looking at the pouring rain. I love her stares, showering not only love but curiosity and an intent to learn more about this odd creature before her. Like a spotlight, she makes you feel like the show's star, eagerly waiting to know what's next, idolizing you patiently.

"But it's not just that. The winters and summers torture my soul and entire being. I am just unable to feel anything in between and after. And when the summer leaves, I still feel the scorching heat burning my skin and soul, to the extent that pouring rain still can't comfort me. Instead, I am still hung up on the past burns. And then the rain becomes an annoyance. Because not only is it unable to soothe me, but it also confines me to a grave loneliness. I'm all alone with my thoughts, and everything gets worse. The past torments me in my thoughts, ever more terrifying than before. And instead of pushing past that, I'm stuck because of the rainfall."

I continued ranting, just as she continued empathizing with me, "It is like my life, you know. I'm unable to let go of the past. Not so readily, not so soon. I let it bother me far more than it should, for far longer after it's gone. I just can't let go of anything. I live in the regrets of the past, anxiously covering my present and hopelessly looking for a future I've idolized, which might not even be there. And even if it is there, it will be gone in a heartbeat. And I'll again be left alone with my thoughts, rueing the past and letting the harsh winters plague me more throughout this remorseful existence of mine."

"Maybe that's why I hate my birthday. It's the last day of August and the last long day of this monsoon mayhem. But as it ends and September starts, autumn arrives at my doorstep. So, my birthday seems like the final hurdle between me and my short-lasting happiness that is arriving soon."

I felt her comforting me through this painful rant, or rather, realization. "At least you're with me through this rain."

"And I'll always be, wherever and whenever you want me to be."

"Will you be there with me during the fall? It'll be in a few days. My birthday's over after all."

"Of course, where will I go? After all, I am in your imagination, you dumbo."

"Heh. Yeah, I know. Thank you for not leaving me alone, even if it all is in my head."

And as I feel the rain drops on my hand, she disappears. And I wait eagerly for the autumn to be here, my one last solace in this world.