Nine-thirty at night, pouring rain and soaked to the bone; this is what I live for.
Not things, I will find and lose so many things over my lifetime, most of which I will never remember, but moments I can never forget.True feeling. The way the rain falls like crystal through the yellow glow of the mock-lantern lights on the side of the building, tumbling through the leaves on the trees. The way the lightning rips through the dark, revealing the roil of clouds overhead. The way the rain collects in my hair and runs down my face and neck, washing some more of the purple dye away. The way my black pants cling to my leg as I move, kicking at puddles in my flip-flops as I go. The smile of the cabby rushing out to his vehicle as I throw my arms wide to enjoy the sensation of cool rain on long over-heated skin. Staccato drumming of each drop as it falls on the carport roof that I should have long ago ducked back under as the lightning flashes across the skyline. Rain bleeding into my eyes as I stare unafraid into the dark, looking for the next spark of electricity.
How long has it been since I last stood alone in the rain and simply let sensation take over the commentary in my mind? Too long I think. No conversations, just raw basic awe, the primal thrill of a storm. As children, we are told to come back inside before we catch our death, before the lightning gets us. As an adult, we can chance the danger and just be. Soaked, and maybe relieved, relaxed for the first time in months. All the lies and deadlines and jagged edges of memories washed away. I feel myself settle in my skin again as the rain rinses off the layers of masks one by one. Disguise gone, I am calm once more. Danger is a risk, but a reward means nothing without it's opposite.
No comments:
Post a Comment