It's raining again, the type of rain I love. You remember that don't you? The kind that makes the day go dark and you can hardly hear a thing over the sound of pouring rain. Do you think of me when the sky darkens and the air thickens and the sweet perfume carries on the breeze? Do you remember how much I love rain? Does it remind you of me, this rain that falls with vengeance? You deserved better but you knew that.

I stare out the window, watching

 those heavy, angry strokes. Lighting flashing, booms of thunder not far behind. All I can think of is how much I miss you teasing my love of rain; to describe it to you, to capture the emotions I feel, I want. I'm lost.

I'm transported back to places I thought I had locked away. Pressed deep beneath the surface, hidden. But locks can be opened, and this rain, a key. I don't have any tears left for you, and even if I did, they would blend with the rain and wash away.

The rain tells me things, whispers in the dark, of what I left behind, discarded like litter that washes down the drain. It reminds me of my promises, how I said I'd never leave, yet, somwhow I did. It mocks me, of how I thought I was moving on, bit by bit, but in the pouring rain I hear your voice. You become one with the rain, with me but still out of reach.

As the rain continues, relentless and heavy like the air I breathe, I imagine I have the courage to face you to tell you, I'm sorry, would the words be enough, would my last tears make you see? I fear your answer of what would come to be. As the rain clears so does my courage and you both disappear.