What the Rain Brings

The sky is downcast again today. At seven in the morning, a gray presence
was looming over the city. There’s news of rain, of a storm actually…a
storm in May, in summer. Isn’t it odd? Do you know that I remember you
when it rains?
You crossed my mind when I looked at the gray sky today, when I stepped
out of my house expecting to be greeted by the summer heat, but instead,
there was the gloomy presence of the still air. Then, I caught myself: I have
said goodbye, I should stop remembering you when it rains.
June is just within reach. I can already hear its sound—the start of the
season of rain. I don’t want to think of you whenever it rains in June, or in
July. Because my memories of you bring pain…and confusion…and I don’t
want those…not anymore. I have said goodbye.
But, maybe, I need the rain. I need the rain not to remind me of you but to
wash away every memory that I still have of you, to wash away even the
littlest trace you still have in my mind and in my heart.
Today, I felt fear when I realized that the rain still reminds me of you. And I
can’t go on feeling afraid of the rain just because it reminds me of you,
because I need the rain, I have been asking for rain in this warm, sticky
summer season. And the rain came, and the memories of you came…and I
was afraid…but if the rain will wash you away from my being, then I will
welcome it even more, even the monsoon season.
ca. 2009

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