Forecast Calls For Showers

Cold January evening, I walked along damp cement under many yellow tinted streetlamps. The cold air kissed my cheeks red, and the wind danced through my hair. I had my favorite pair of headphones on where I'd listen to our favorite songs. They still brought me comfort. I wasn't in any rush to get home, I wanted to take my time to finish our playlist. I glanced up to the blackened sky where specks of white lie. They twinkled the way your eyes used to.

I stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk and realized my shoelace was untied. I kneeled to tie it again when suddenly, it began raining memories. That's funny, the forecast didn't call for showers, yet there they all were. Each one coming down after the next. I forgot to bring my umbrella of reality, but I didn't quite mind it this time. I was more than willing to soak up each one that landed on my mind.

There were so many. The time you held me in your arms as the sun went down. The moment I realized I wanted to keep you in my life. Then the moment where we didn't speak anymore. Some felt like warm little rays of sunshine landing on my skin, other's felt like shards of glass. I was willing to welcome both sensations because it meant I got to see you. I was angry with you, that much was true, but you were never removed from my heart. You clung onto it like it belonged to you. Well, I guess it did.

I sat in the center of the sidewalk, street empty, now drenched in the memories raining down on me. Suddenly I could hear your laugh, it was like music. All our silly moments started trickling in. I could feel the emotions all over again like it was the first time. I remember showing you how to crotchet and watching you try so hard. It was a moment of pure innocence, and your walls were lower than they'd ever been. I felt like I was finally getting to see the real you. Something I had been waiting for a long time to see. I giggled to myself, the memory fell onto my skin and absorbed slower than the others because I wanted to savor it.

You taught me how to play guitar and it's funny because I never quite got it down. Now every time I strum a set of strings, I can almost feel your hand on top of mine, guiding me. The melody plays each time a memory hits my skin.

Suddenly, the cloud runs dry of our memories. I am now covered. I get up, shoe still untied, and begin to walk to the streetlamp at the end of the corner. As I begin to reach it, I see a silhouette of someone walking in my direction. The closer we get, I see this person too is drenched, dripping head to toe. They're holding a sweater in their left hand and looking straight down to their feet as they walk. When they reach underneath the streetlamp, they stop in their tracks, looking up in my direction. I realize it wasn't just anybody. It was you. The sweater in your hand was mine. It seems I wasn't the only one who experienced such a phenomenon.

When I stood under that streetlamp with you, we stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Our bodies still dripping. Hearts still beating. Finally you broke the silence. "I never gave it back." You said, gesturing the sweater towards me. "It still smells like you, you know. No matter how many times I tried washing it. Your scent never left it. Almost as if it was taunting me."

I stood there, glancing at the sweater and back up at you. "That's the last thing I left at your apartment." I mumbled. "Do you really want to give it back?" You looked at me as if you weren't really sure, but you nodded your head and gestured the sweater towards me once more. "You'll have nothing left. No more things that will remind you of me if I take this back. Is that what you want?"

You glanced down at the sweater and chuckled, but I could still hear your pain. "You really think this is the last thing to remind me of you?" You said. I stared blankly at you. "Everything reminds me of you. Everything will always remind me of you. In my bedsheets. The shows we'd watch. The morning sunrises because even though we hated waking up early, we always glanced at each other in our sleepy state and still smiled before falling asleep again. In the color pink and the distant laughs that I almost think are yours and have to do a double take. I will never not be reminded of you." Your hand was now trembling holding my sweater.

I felt a shortness of breath. "Did you see them, too? I mean you're.." I looked him up and down, gesturing to his damp state, the same as mine.

"Yeah.. I did." Your eyes started tear up. "I couldn't control them. They just kept falling and falling and falling until I was covered in them."

"Me, too." I shrugged my shoulders. "Did you.. want to control them?"

"At times, yes. The amount of pain I felt during some of those was almost too much to bare."

"That's the funny thing about life. It's often the most beautiful things, the most meaningful, that seem to sting the most when they're gone. Isn't it worth it though?"

You looked at me with a confused expression.

"To have the kind of privilege to experience something that was so beautiful, it could hurt us that much? I would hurt all over again if it meant it would lead me back to you." I said.

After seconds of silence, you walked towards me and swung the sweater over my shoulders.

"You must be cold." You said, both hands rubbing my arms. "Nice night for a walk, huh?"

"That it is." I smiled.

"I'm gonna want that sweater back when we're done, if that's alright."