It's raining here.
I don't know why, but I don't love rain anymore. There is just too much about this rain that reminds me of the things I wish I could forget.
The sky is an angry grey. But I wonder if it's grief. Grief is wearing the colours of melancholy that's slowly drizzling down. There is no wind that touches you with love, nor there is anything that makes you want to just go out and get drenched. The rain feels like an angry jilted lover who maybe doesn't know how to grieve.
Maybe it's me. Maybe it's you. Maybe it's us and a love that doesn't know how to grieve.
I wonder why some summer evenings when the rain comes uninvited I think of you and the endless conversations about a life that we could have had. I don't know why, but every time it rains, I feel like my throat might close up with all the unsaid things I wish I could tell you.
I wish I knew goodbye was just waiting around the corner that last time I whispered I love you.
Maybe one day you will come back. It might rain and we might watch it together. Our silence will no longer suffocate us with the hurt I hide.
We will talk about our love that is lost somewhere between the pages of a story that we buried. Maybe my eyes will finally unveil the pain that I learnt to hide. But I will smile too.
Maybe then I will finally be thankful that you taught me what it means to love. When I say goodbye then, for once it won't feel like my heart is breaking apart.
For once it won't seem like a death that came before I could even take a breath. Maybe then once again I will fall in love with rain and the sky won't be mourning the loss of a love that was over in a heart beat.
I don't know why, but I don't love rain anymore. There is just too much about this rain that reminds me of the things I wish I could forget.
The sky is an angry grey. But I wonder if it's grief. Grief is wearing the colours of melancholy that's slowly drizzling down. There is no wind that touches you with love, nor there is anything that makes you want to just go out and get drenched. The rain feels like an angry jilted lover who maybe doesn't know how to grieve.
Maybe it's me. Maybe it's you. Maybe it's us and a love that doesn't know how to grieve.
I wonder why some summer evenings when the rain comes uninvited I think of you and the endless conversations about a life that we could have had. I don't know why, but every time it rains, I feel like my throat might close up with all the unsaid things I wish I could tell you.
I wish I knew goodbye was just waiting around the corner that last time I whispered I love you.
Maybe one day you will come back. It might rain and we might watch it together. Our silence will no longer suffocate us with the hurt I hide.
We will talk about our love that is lost somewhere between the pages of a story that we buried. Maybe my eyes will finally unveil the pain that I learnt to hide. But I will smile too.
Maybe then I will finally be thankful that you taught me what it means to love. When I say goodbye then, for once it won't feel like my heart is breaking apart.
For once it won't seem like a death that came before I could even take a breath. Maybe then once again I will fall in love with rain and the sky won't be mourning the loss of a love that was over in a heart beat.