I don’t know how I feel about rainy days,
there’s something so set about them. I sit by windows and watch the rain fall against the glass racing each other until they conglomerate together dripping down the window shield.
These drops are dreamy and cold and dark all in one, and like a wet blanket they cover you in the drab weather. The day becomes consumed by rain, plans postponed by soggy soil, yet there is also a comfort in its presence. At night, I welcome the rain as it patters against my window melodically embracing me as each beat plays me to sleep.
Or when I’m sitting in the car and the rain is my umbrella obscuring the outside so I may think in peace; It is a justified excuse for why I can’t leave just yet. In these moments the rain is my friend a pocket of liquid love separate from the rest of the day, restful and pure.
I don’t know how I feel about rainy days, but with most moments set in the black and white list of likes and dislikes rights and wrongs it’s nice to have a entity that sits just as it is.