Rain

Rain

It was raining.

It was only a light rain, a sort of drizzle, so we decided to go for a walk. She loves the rain.

I hadn’t known her for very long, but I’d seen the scars. She tried to hide them by crossing her arms or wearing a baggy sweatshirt to cover them up, but I’d seen them.

I don’t mean to glorify self-harm–but those scars made me want to hold her close and keep her safe. They didn’t push me away; they helped me understand her.

We were talking about something stupid–I can’t remember what–and she brought up the day we met at a party of a mutual friend. She stopped walking, just stood there while the rain washed down her face and through her hair.

She closed her eyes with her face slightly angled to the sky, exposing every inch of her face to the rain as if it could wash away her memories.

“You know… I almost did it that night. After I went home.”

I didn’t need to ask what she meant when she opened her eyes and gave me a look that was half curious and half afraid. There it was again, that desire to protect her. She’d spent so much time trying to protect herself from the outside world; it was the inside that she needed help with. She was like a pillar, strong and unyielding, but when it came to her own mind, she was about as effective as a white crayon.

The rain kept coming down, drenching our clothes. She wiped a raindrop from under her eye with a practiced hand…

It was then that I realized that I wanted to be with her. I wanted to listen to her heartbeat, wake up next to her and see her bleary morning smile. I wanted to hear every word she had to say because whenever she spoke, I felt lighter than I’d ever felt in my life.

Somehow the world was brighter with her in it. Everything was more colorful, and the simplest things could be exciting. She appreciated everything that was beautiful, including life itself. She observed everything around her and somehow, she found something good in it all. She was like the sun in that way–she lit up the world and brought everything to life. But she was like the sun in another way as well. She drew people to herself with some strange gravitational pull, of which I was also a victim–if you could even call the people victims. Anyone would be lucky to be one of her victims.

She looked at me, and I looked back at her. I couldn’t think of anything to say. There weren’t words to describe what I was thinking as my eyes traced the curve of her cheek, down along her chin, up to her soft lips, on to her small nose, and finally I met her eyes. She tentatively smiled and tilted her head ever so slightly. She wasn’t sure what to do. I had an idea in the back of my head, but doubt tugged at me and I hesitated. Then suddenly the doubt fell back for a moment and I decided to take a chance.

I kissed her.

Eventually we continued on our walk, but this time we held hands. It was silent, save for the sound of gentle rainfall… and I couldn’t imagine anything that could make the moment more perfect.