Affair with the rain

The sun knew she didn’t miss it when the rain came, her want for picnics and beach days faded. Rainy days brought cold droplets to make her feel alive with wind to sweep her off her feet. The rain’s wind touched her differently, leaving goosebumps with its brisk pass by. Though sometimes it was bitter and cold pounding against her body to cover her skin almost felt wrong. The sun was nice enough but barely brought a breeze, so her eyes everted to the rain that brought bigger gifts like thunder and lightning with a downpour to almost cleanse her. She would say to the sun “I do apologize for my affair, but the rain just hits better when you're not there”. Something in the beautiful chaos that was a thunderstorm, in the calmness of the sounds on her windowpane, in the feeling of the wind to make her shutter and its strength to blow her away.  Shelter seemed childish though this weather could destroy her, one could only wonder why such violence would be attractive. Was it abuse she craved? Or just something that could touch her? To make her feel something because for years she didn’t. On the land she fought for she chose solitude in her bold motion just to be reminded that it also meant loneliness. The memory of the love, she turned away stained itself on the walls of the now empty house, for the term home couldn’t describe the shell in which she lived. Partially empty shelves clung to cracked paint while weary cabinet doors slouched in exhaustion. Years showed from interior to exterior, years of lost laughter, years of heartbreak, and fights that her “enemy” eventually surrendered. Arguments won but her 25-year marriage lost. Now only the wind embraced her, howling as it travelled through the vacant space. It could be said that love for the rainy weather came from the way it mirrored her emotions.

 Before the storm, Love had never been so raw and pure in existence. It was embodied in the way Deja adored her husband and he did her. From that love produced life in their daughter and son two precious souls protected within the house that was once their home, now her prison. Memories of these post-destruction times were just one of the things the wind couldn’t blow away. The flashbacks of her anger and defiance towards her domesticated life, a life she regretted uprooting. The rain couldn’t wash away the disgust she felt within, it could only reflect it. Not a phone call in the 5 years since and hers were always ignored, not a visit, disregard modern times not even a letter in her mail. That was it. She fought for solitude, and she got it. Her mistakes strutted through her mind in a black suit and tie showing the luxurious life that lured her to leave the vanilla essence of being a “tired old housewife”. The grass was greener on the other side, and she craved it, however, it was plastic. 

Deja loved the wind so much that she threw caution to it. Now all she had to show for it was her tears mixing with the raindrops crashing to the ground. Before these tears and empty years, her life revolved around her family, raising the babies she loved so much, caring for the husband who worked hard for them, and creating the home that was now stripped of its warmth. This was her tormented mind daily. This depressing journey on the inside felt like being whisked by the wind into a hurricane. Despite her thoughts uproar this morning the sun was shining, reaching its rays across her tear-stained face. It was warm. Even if it was against her feelings, it was comforting. Down to the air. Past time caused her to give up trying to fix what was broken but now the urge to pick up that phone was renewed. She couldn’t describe what it was, but the sun rose differently that morning, maybe after the continuous storm it wanted to show its presence never left, it just couldn’t be seen or felt beneath the turmoil. It was easier for the rain to hit better when the sun wasn’t there but now what was she to make of this tenderness the light held her with? Her grieving was so deep it felt wrong to feel so serene, so at peace. The light entered her eyes and pierced her brain expelling the darkness she wrapped herself in.  Her tunnel vision led her to a wall but now she could see light through its cracks, from that she would try one more time. To acknowledge her faults and fight harder but this time she would choose the right battle and hope to reclaim her love.

Of course, it wouldn’t be easy and in true human nature one couldn’t help but think of all the ways it could go wrong, “what ifs” crowded her mind with scenarios while she tried desperately to think of the words to stay. Her calls were never answered before so what would make this time any different? What if he picked it up just to curse her name? What if all her chances were gone? In moments like this, the subconscious loves to play and that it did but the passion within her fueled the determination to leave this emptiness behind, to walk out of the storm and spend her days in the light. Deja’s hand trembled as she reached for the phone its slim figure was heavy as she dialed the number, she compared it to entering launch codes until the last digit was pressed and the line rang. Every ring chiseled at her hope until it dwindled, the seconds never felt so long, so torturous, So-. there was click followed by a lengthy pause, after that the moment that would change everything, in the years that passed and the ones to come. All would change from that one word on the other side of the phone. 

“Hello?”