Taking back the rain

Since Kate and I split, the rain had been a painful mnemonic---we loved the rain together---but I have decided to reclaim it and make it my own again. It rained the other day. It hasn’t really rained much at all this year until then. That day I rigged a water proof cover for my camera out of a grocery bag and rubber bands and went for a walk through the nearby memorial park in an attempt to clear my head and ease my mind, which had been brutally attacking me the last couple weeks. As I walked through the fields to the mausoleum, the rain began falling harder. I took shelter in the mausoleum and walked through the marble halls. The walls were adorned with pictures, letters, and other trinkets as well as flowers, enough to make the walls look like a vast spring field. The only sound I heard was the pounding rain on the massive skylights of the mausoleum. Not a single living soul but me. It was the most peace and quiet I have had since I have been on my own. 

The rain didn't seem like it was going to let up so I made my way towards the exit and prepared to walk in the downpour. Almost simultaneously with my first step out of the mausoleum, the rain eased up a bit and I walked to my car in the soft, soul-warming rain that I have always loved. It was as if God was granting me my serenity for the day.

I drove over to Wildcat Canyon, one of the local regional parks, to continue my adventure in the rain. Before I even left the car, I simply just sat. I watched the rain create different shapes in the windshield, like you would clouds on an a clearer day, while I listened to it create a unique rhythm on the roof of my car.

 Again, almost in unison with the opening of my car door, the rain eased off to a slower tempo and I made my way to the creek. Seeing the creek full and flowing again and seeing the green overcome the drab brown that I have become accustomed to made me very happy. Everything was new again including my peace.

  I walked back to my car in my very damp clothes and drove back home.

I rarely go to Starbucks but I didn't have any hot chocolate in the cupboard so I made a stop. Just to keep myself from being too cliche, I ordered a hot white chocolate instead and went home. As I sat in my living room sipping my white chocolate, I began to realize how much I took having my own room for granted.

 I had always been able to retreat to my room and find my tranquility there. Having quiet and privacy had always been an overlooked privilege.

 Living in the living room is cheap---an easy solution to having to pay an enormous rent---but now I realize what that higher rent cost would really be paying for. I have never fully realized until now how much people yearn for solitude as much as they yearn for the company of others.

I long for the rain to fall again. The next time it falls, everything that made me love it will be mine again; The smell of the wet asphalt, the clean shine it gives everything, the way it looks when you tilt your head back, the way it tastes, the way it slides down your face and hangs from the tip of your nose, the way it feels against your skin as you hold somebody. That will all belong to me. Having the rain carry with it my ever coveted peace is more important to me than using it to hold a grudge.