I forgot how the rain made me feel
It rained today. I thought it unusual for it was summer. I looked at the pouring rain from the glass panes of a coffee shop, holding a cup of cappuccino. Quietly, I made way for any feeling that would peer over me each time it rained. I waited out for the feeling to come through, fixing my gaze outside the pouring rain. And I felt even more unusual for the feeling never came. I knew I once loved the rain. I loved both its soft and harsh hissing sound. I loved how everything around me seemed to take a slower pace, almost to a standstill. The rain seemed to quiet and calm the soul of the earth. And with it, my own senses. I loved how I cuddled in bed in deep content as the rain seemed to have its own unique lullaby that puts me to deep sleep. I wanted to draw out that familiar feeling. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t feel how the rain made me feel. Not today as it was raining. I don’t feel anything at all. But I can almost remember how I used to...