Love: A Collection of Stories

Sing For Me

I woke to the pitter patter of rain on my window, and upon opening the shades a light gray sky. It was almost white, not quite. The streets were a glossy black, and fewer cars dared to drive over them. And there was absolutely no one. Well except the birds. They were the only thing that refused to have their daily routine messed up. Their banter, a quick and constant chirping, seemed peaceful, normal. Natural. No matter how much it rained the birds kept on.

Even the weather pitied me, teased me. It dared to reciprocate what I was going through. And it tested my resilience, the choices I made.

I had woken from yet another dream, similar but not the same. And when I woke, the dream happened. It had to, it would. I couldn't delete him from my life completely.  Instead of being on some side of an untouchable wall, he was right next to me. Very close to me. This was how it was supposed to be. When I laughed he laughed. When I cried he sought to comfort me. This was what it was. He believed in me and wanted to do everything I wanted to. His eyes looked into mine. With uncut attention, wonder, respect, and infinite love. I could find that if I dug deep enough.

We fit together, two minds couldn't seem more in sync or more beautiful. I fail to write perfect because it wasn't. There were roadblocks, rain drove with all its force into earth. There were moments of unprecedented happiness, joy impossible to plan for. Yet the two never hit each other, never even came close.

In the real world the birds didn't care, they fought the watery desert. No matter how bleak it seemed, no matter how certain the rain insisted upon raining. With him, the birds would whisper when it started sprinkling. When the rain came down and down, expected after a drought, the birds got yet quieter, not willing to toy with the rain. And when it poured relentlessly in droves, everything stopped and so did the birds. They didn't care to fight the rain, it could only harm them. Why would they hum? The rain would eventually end, life could go on even with the rain. They simply did not care. Then again maybe they did care. But it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough, they couldn't call out once in the midst of the storm.

Because it was too much work, to say anything while I lost control. It wasn't worth it. I wasn't worth it. The rain was going to come, I couldn't stop that. No matter how much I wanted to. If only I could make the birds sing.