The Rain I Loved

I have always loved the rain.

The way it softens the world.
The way it makes everything quieter.
The way it turns windows into places to linger
and ordinary nights into something beautiful.
The memories of walking in it and kissing it,
getting caught in it,
rushing out into it.

Rain has always felt like comfort to me.

But tonight, it hurts.

Every drop seems to land somewhere tender,
and I find myself grieving not only what I’ve lost,
but what I loved before it became tangled up in losing.

I don’t want the rain to hurt forever.

So maybe someday,
on some distant evening,
I’ll hear it tapping against the window
and realize my heart didn’t break open at the sound.

Maybe I’ll open the window.
Maybe I’ll breathe it in.
Maybe I’ll stand outside and let it find me.

It’s raining as I write this.
Of course it is.
A hard summer rain.
We need it.
I need it.

And maybe someday,
I’ll love the rain again.