Sounds in the Rain

I was awake again. It had been happpening every night, around the same time. My body would just...vibrate, wide awake with no hope of calming down to fall back asleep.

It was earlier than usual this night. I debated making coffee, it seemed ridiculous to start my day at 1 am, but make it I did. I reveled in the ritual, watching as the water started to drip through the grounds filling the kitchen with that addictive smell. The smell of it that is even better than the actual drinking.

The rain had started. I sat in the dark, listening, the gentle cool breeze coming through my open windows drifted in, along with the hollow metallic sound of the drops hitting the air conditioner one floor below me. I could hear as they hit the puddles that had formed on the concrete of the alley outside. The two sounds merged into a sort of hypnotic melody, occassionally accompanied by voices coming from the apartment next to me.

I let the sounds wash over me. A lone car drove by, its tires splashing in the street, fading slowly, as it headed where ever it was going. The city was quiet, even the sirens. There was no shouting, no banging of a bottle tossed in the dumpster, no one seemed to be moving at all out there.

The rain cleanses. The dust on the trees, on the sidewalks, gets washed away, and when the rain stops, the air will smell sweet again. For a little while.

I longed to go out in it, to wander in the night. I had common sense though, and while it may seem like the city sleeps, I knew it was not the case, that it would invite trouble.

Maybe that is exactly what I neeeded. Trouble. A little danger to show my body that THAT is what fight or flight really is, not the silly things that enter our minds, creating anxiety. I tried to remind her, to breathe calmly, yet she resisted, the perceived danger merging with the imaginary.

I quieted my mind back down and listened to the sounds in the rain.

I could hear the water running through the gutters, flowing down, under the city and away. I longed to follow it out to sea. I imagined the sea, rain falling down, waves crashing on the beach. I pictured a raging ocean, all dark blue, water falling from above.

I came back to myself, a loud laugh from my neighbor had pulled me back. What were they doing at 2:30 am on a Tuesday night? Or...Wednesday morning. They were not listening. Thankfully their windows were shut, the noise muted, adding to instead of detracting from the symphony of rain.

I wondered if anyone else was sitting in the dark, like me, listening. I wondered what sounds they were hearing.

I start to cry. I could not tell you why. It was as if the tears mirrored the rain outside, slowly rolling down the glass of the windows, down my cheeks. The things I thought I could have been crying about came and went like the random cars on the street, bursting into hearing, fading gently away.

All the things seemed petty. They were the types of things each of us face, most of us, some of us. The rain disolved them, carrying them for me, in the sound of the drops hitting the air conditioner, the puddles on the concrete. They dispersed, creeping into the fabric of the city, adding to the thousands of tears shed.

The sound of tears lost in the sound of the rain.

I found myself grateful for my early, early wake up today, unlike the previous nights where I cursed, and wished for sleep. I had the night to myself now, an intoxicating feeling, sitting in the dark, listening. I felt all alone in the world, and also one with everyone. Lonely, and surrounded, as if the loneliness was a blanket. I smiled.

The ceiling fan spun rhythmically, the refridgerator hummed. The inside sounds. My eyes burned, eyelids heavy. My body relaxed, finally, from the listening, being present with the rain. Was sleep knocking gently at my door?

I stood, grabbed my coffee cup, and headed to the kitchen.

Not this night. Not while it rains.