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The Rain
Or A Personal Memoir of the Future

The rain on the windowpane caused it to be translucent with the light from the darkened midday skies. I sat on the windowseat, lazily staring out the window, unable to see yet unwilling to turn away. My thoughts were somewhere else, scrambled in some other world. The phone rang, startling me from my trance-like state. I glanced over, and in an instant decided to let it go. I didn't want to be bothered by the outside world.

Focusing my attention on the rain streaming down the window, I sipped my peppermint tea. I flashed to a million things I wish I had done differently in my life. I wish I'd kept in touch with Kathy. I wish I had left Alabama sooner. I wish I'd never betrayed Erin. I wish I hadn't dropped out of college. I wish I'd learn when to stop myself from doing stupid things. As the last thought flashed across my eyes, it loomed large: I wish I wouldn't allow myself to be vulnerable.

A bolt of lightning briefly illuminated the inside of the room, diffused and soft through the water-soaked pane of glass that seperated me, in my warmth and coziness, from the cold hard rain outside. The tremor of the accompanying thunder rocked the house a few moments later, deep and resounding, lasting several seconds til it wound itself down with a final rattle of my window. I glanced outside and noticed that the skies seem to have darkened even more.

Returning to my thoughts, I try to fathom why it is that I allow myself to continue in paths I know better than to take. Am I blind? Do I simply not see what will happen? No, I generally see. I see, and yet refuse to believe. Or I see, and refuse to accept that outcome. Yet, like a stubborn mule, I follow that path, and always fail. I sigh as I realise how many failures I've had because of my refusal to accept the obvious outcome. A tear wells in my eye as I consider the hardship I've led myself into by taking this path. Is there any redeeming aspect of my seeming need to always take the hardest route possible? I think there must not be.

I burrow deeper into the fleece blanket I'm wrapped into. A soft sigh escapes my lips. I remember that I chose long ago to let life teach me, for better or worse. I didn't know then what an unforgiving instructor Life would be. I never anticipated making the same mistakes over and over until the lesson was beat into my skull. Raindrops fall down my cheeks as I cry softly for what I have learned, more for what I have not. I know I have much farther to go.

As the saltwater slides gently down my cheeks, I climb from the warmth of my blanket. I stand up on wobbly legs and head for the door. As I stumble outside into the frigid rain, the sense of loss, of tragedy is replaced inside my heart. Water streaming down my face, I can finally see that outside my blurred opaque window the rain is letting up.

This Way To Paradise Lost