You don’t understand me?
I’ve been sitting here, waiting patiently for it to come. I told myself I wouldn’t sleep if it didn’t. The skies have been groaning since 9pm yesterday, before we stepped into the cinema. When we stepped out 2 hrs later, I noticed that the roads were dry. Weird, I thought, and looked up questioningly. What are you waiting for?
Then, as I sat here, emotions alternating between the pseudo-depressive kind and downright-mad kind, I felt, rather than saw, the silent lightning from this side of the curtain. I turned towards my window and looked at the prints on the curtains, but what I really saw was the tree outside my window bent forward by the wind. Then, like applause, I heard the pitter-patter of the rain beating down on my windows. I pulled back the curtains and watched a single raindrop trail down the pane. Wait. Maybe that was actually a tear rolling down the cheek of my image, reflected back to me.
I opened the window and stretched out a palm, the raindrops anointing my wounds like balm. I took a deep breath, taking in the wonderful, mysterious smell of rain, and feel it soothing my soul. I closed my eyes…
And see the words printed behind my eyelids. And hear the accusations resonating in my brain. Ironically, I opened my eyes to shut them out, and they stung.
It didn’t help at all today. Then what else will?
What do you want? I finally said the words I’ve come to detest.
Open the door now, she demanded.
I sat at the table, glassy-eyed but wide-awake and replied, Go away. I’m sleeping.
I know you are not.
I’ve asked for the morning off, to shake off the night that was never to be. I glanced at the time again. Should I or should I not? I looked out of the window for answers and found that it’s still raining outside.
Thank you for keeping me company. I’ll let you decide.