having a hard time beating the summer heat
Of rain and the L word
I don’t know what I find romantic about rain. Maybe it’s the unpredictability of it. We do have weather reports to tell us when it will probably rain, but most of the time they just make our arms tired at the end of the day because of carrying that heavy umbrella. You wear clothes that will protect you in case the rain comes, but you end up sweaty because the stupid rain didn’t come. There are times that the rain does come, it’s during those days when you get out of the house wearing summer clothes and when you forgot to bring your umbrella with you. You arrive home, soaked and creating a mess on the floor and if you’re really lucky you are the big winner of the fever courtesy of your old friend – rain.
I don’t know why the rain is so pleasant for me. Maybe because it gives a fresh feeling after the tattletale humidity that announces its arrival. The rain looks so pretty whenever I watch it from my room’s window. I stick my hand out and feel the cold water heaven has given me. It tickles as the water kisses my palm and gives the fresh feeling that I have longed for during the warm humid days. As a child, I longed to play in the rain. But because of my twin, Asthma, I couldn’t. My mother would not allow me, out of fear that my weak lungs would not be able to take the chill. I was afraid of my mother so I never went out when she told me not to. I just sat there, eyeing the other kids enviously as they jumped and danced under my most admired rain. I grew up just wondering what it would have been like if I just risked going out to play with my pretty rain, would it be worth the fever?
I grew up and had the chance to pretend that my lungs were finally strong enough to take on the cold. I danced with the rain, every drop fills my heart with happiness. At last, I would no longer be asking what other people felt like when they dance under the rain, I felt it first hand! It felt as if every drop was sent to tickle me, make up for the times it wasn’t there to comfort me. Time stretches to an eternal happiness of a soothing cold comfort brought by the rain. A heavy heart that I have carried all my life was enjoying swimming in all that joy. I felt free, I felt like I could do everything, anything. Then suddenly, the rain stopped. There was a loud scratching sound announcing my arrival to planet Earth. I soon realized that the scratching sound was my mother’s voice calling me to get inside. I got sick that night, I was the lucky one to catch the cold. I got nagged at that night and the morning after but it was all worth it.
Love is a lot like the rain. Unexpected, uninvited, refreshing, beautiful, but after the seemingly eternal happiness, you get sick.
I was always curious how real love felt. I wonder how princesses felt when they finally meet their prince charming. I wondered if by fate I will meet the one for me even if we leave it all to chance, serendipity was a movie for hopeless romantics, (whatever you do, don’t watch it when you’re alone in your apartment!). You’ll end up thinking that there’s this perfect love out there for you, just waiting to happen. Some of us are shrews, difficult, untamed, and solitary. Waiting for that someone to dig us up from our burrows and help us get used to the light. Other movies like If Only helps us realize that in love one of you has to die. Just kidding, now back to the rain…
It’s fun while it lasts so enjoy every minute of it. I miss it when it’s gone but just as I get over the feeling, it comes back rushing, pouring, filling me with this weird confusing sensation that is so good I could drown in it.
You can’t stop the rain from leaving. Even if you want it to go on forever, it has got to stop at some point. Too much is harmful. Too much can make you sick. When the rain leaves, you’ll miss it. However, you should keep in mind that it will come back, maybe not soon enough, but it will. Just when you’re back to your old routine, just when you’ve learned to live without it, it comes back.
It will seduce you to come out of your roof’s comfort and flirt with it. It will sing, dance, and play with you – only to leave you cold and shivering. You’ll get sick, get well, just to be sick again.
The rain is addictive. I have been about the rain, attracted to the false peace and glee that it projects. I went out there, giving in to the temptation only to end up sick. Yet after recovering from the illness, I long to go out there again. Hoping that maybe next time, I won’t get sick. Maybe on the next rain my immune system would be tough enough to keep me from falling ill from the rain’s after-chill. Maybe next time, it will be my rain. The one that will make me happy as long as I live. Maybe the next rain will give me the forever that I long for. Maybe I’ll drown before that happens. Maybe. Maybe not.
