Seeing You In The Rain

 Playlist

-Molasses by Alec Bailey

-Play Pretend by Braveweather  

-I Love You, I’m Sorry by Gracie Abrams

-Picture You by Chappell Roan

-The Grudge by Olivia Rodrigo



   8/9/2024

   I’m looking for it today. The Coca-Cola-flavored lip balm you’d gotten me for my birthday. 

   I wear it daily, painting it on my lips despite knowing you’ll never kiss them.

   And I know, by how you look at me you want to. I hope you regret not doing it for those five months we were together. 

   I hope you miss me the same way I miss you, to the point where you’ll still use that stupid dinosaur pen I got you at Universal daily, to the point where you’re frantically searching everywhere for it when lost, to the point where when it runs out of ink you’ll buy another one just to keep the memory of me around.

   I wish that you’d long for me the same way I long for you, even though I know you don’t. 

   I know because I asked, because I called on a late November night, telling you I missed you. I know because of the hesitation in your response, the way you said “Thanks for telling me, I guess”.

   I was silent then, the static echoing through the phone speaker as you shifted on your bed. 

   “It wasn’t your fault. The relationship ending, I mean.”

   “You sure? I feel like I did something-”

   “Yeah, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

   “...Promise?”

 “Promise.”

   And I found the lip balm under my bed, laying there on its side, as though it were hiding from me on purpose. 

   As though it didn’t want to be found.

And maybe you don't want to be found either, like the lip balm, and you just want me to leave the thought of us behind. I've tried, truly, talking to myself in the mirror, pretending you were on the other side as I won the arguments with you inside my head.

Before bed, in the morning, in the shower. As stupid as it sounds, it feels good to make imaginary you feel a little bad about your actions.

I still wonder if you felt bad sending the breakup text, or if maybe you cried like I did when you read it over.

And I feel bad for hoping you did.

.-.-.-.~-~.-.-.-.

   8/10/2024

   I’m looking for it today. I’m looking for my notebook, the one I’m always writing in, the one that I never leave behind. 

   It’s something I can’t live without, my notebook with the pages filled to the brim with words about you. I can’t live without the memory of you, the last remaining thoughts about you simply poured out, page by page.

   There are only fifteen more blank ones now.

   I write a lot of things, but one thing I wish I could re-write is our ending.

   We’d be old and living together, sitting out on our front porch as we watched our two kids playing with our dog, sprinting into the sunset as they laughed.

   You’d look over at me, stars in your eyes as you gazed into mine, and you’d say how grateful you are to have such a wonderful life. You’d tell me you loved me and I’d say I loved you too before you captured my lips in a kiss, as you tasted the Coca-Cola lip balm you got me so many years ago.

    I feel like a fool, making up this scenario as though it’ll happen. I feel pathetic for waiting around like this for you, as though you’ll suddenly text me, asking for me back.

   I found my notebook on the counter where you once told me I was the prettiest girl you’d ever met, and how lucky you were to have me.

   I wonder if you meant it.

.-.-.-.~-~.-.-.-.

   8/11/2024

   I’m looking for you today, somewhere within the crowd of people in hopes that I’ll see you, even for an instant. I just want to see if you’re doing ok like I do week after week.

   You seem so happy without me, even though the stares tell me that I’m still on your mind, just a little bit.

   I picked out my tight, white shirt that you always thought I looked good in, with the jeans that you’d first asked me out in. I know you don’t remember, but I hope that just for an instant, you’ll come back to me and look at me the way you used to.

   I look for you in everything, in everyone. In videos, through car windows, hidden between the lyrics of my favorite songs. I’m more apathetic now, unable to fight the thought of you from invading my brain.

   Just because I miss you doesn’t mean I like it.

   And then, only for a second, I caught you looking at me with the same gaze you used to, eyes focused on mine before you quickly looked away.

   Part of me wonders if it was the outfit, or if it was me you were looking at.

.-.-.-.~-~.-.-.-.

   8/12/24

   I saw you again today. The rain droplets hit the ground with a soft thunk and caused the puddles to ripple.

  I remember the time you’d promised to dance with me in the rain. I imagined it so clearly; your hand wrapped around my waist as I wrapped mine around your neck, swaying in the rain together.

   I miss when that thought didn’t depress me as much as it does now when that figment of our future seemed possible.

   I miss when you’d come up behind me, your arms around my shoulders as you’d pull me into you, my back pressed against your chest. My fingers would come up and meet yours, the warm gooey feeling blossoming in my chest as I realized that you were mine, nobody else’s as I saw the jealous stares of the other girls who admired you.

   Even though you aren’t physically here with me right now, in the rain, your ghost is. It lives in every puddle, every droplet from the sky.

   I still see you everywhere, because I’m always looking for you in everyone I meet.

   I hate that I still look for you.

   I still miss you.