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I loved rain. I loved rain so fucking much. I always have. There was nothing more calming than falling asleep to rain.
My favourite kind of rain though was not the kind you listen to or look at through fogged up, grey windows in Autumn, my favourite kind of rain was Summer rain, the one you have the desire to feel on your skin.
It was Sunday afternoon and I was sitting underneath an old oak tree on top of a hill in my neighbourhood. The tree branches providing only little shelter from the rain. My blue sundress was completely soaked by now, sticking to my body like a glove. I had kicked my shoes off somewhere on my way up here.
I mostly came here when I needed to think. Or when I just wanted to be left alone for once. No one else knew about it. I never told anyone, not Sammy or Cat. Not my parents. Not James. It was my little secret.
Feeling the warm rain on my skin felt oddly freeing. It helped me hear my thoughts more clearly. It calmed me.
I had never cried in the rain before. Rain brought me joy, it made me happy. And the thought of crying in the rain sounded like too much of a cliché to me. Today was different. There was nothing glorious about me sitting on top of that hill in one of my favourite sundresses, crying my eyes out, the rain masking my pain as my tears just mixed in with the ones of the sky.
There was nothing glorious about my choked up sobs or silent screams. Nothing.
I always tried to seem tough, like I was stronger than the things that kept me up at night. I wasn't.
I would've loved to say that things weren't getting to me, that I didn't overthink as much as I did or that I could easily let go.
I would've fucking loved to feel nothing but hate for James right now. How badly would I like to say that I could move on just like that, that I knew I deserved better, that he was an asshole and that what happened to me would only make me stronger.
How badly would I like to say that my heart wasn't still his, that I had no feelings left for the curly haired boy whose dimpled smile felt like it had been tattooed onto my heart.
But you know what? Sadly, hearts don't work like that, feelings don't just go away. Not after two whole years, not after feeling so much for someone.. And when you let go- when you try to let go, it fucking hurts.
There was nothing glorious about crying over James, there really wasn't, nothing about this was being strong.. but it sure felt freeing to cry and sob and be mad and feel the rain.
