I hear its cliché to talk about the weather on first dates. But I don’t know much about them anyway. It’s quite funny in a cynical, and slightly ironic way but, you’re a lot like the weather- unpredictable, irregular, impulsive but more so- powerful.
People get paid to tell us it’s going to rain cats and dogs, but instead were only left with a light drizzle. We run to the grocery store and get every last loaf of bread, but end up throwing it out when we find no use for it. We’re always expecting and assuming there will be something larger, but then we’re let down with what we’re given.
We over prepare for a storm that never comes- until mid July, when a heat wave is seven days in and it’s sweltering hot. A cool shower feels like hot lava dispensing heavily. We’re desperately yearning for a grey cloud to hover over us and shower our dry bodies. We hope and we hope, but no one on TV ever tells us it’s coming.
That’s when it rains cats and dogs, and then you’re unprepared because it’s unexpected. Our hope and need for the rain overpowers us, we become consumed in needing the rain or the sunshine- and you give it when you please, when you feel like fucking with the Sun. Didn’t you hear not to mess with Mother Nature? But yet, you kick her to the curb and rain on our parade.
The one thing someone looks forward to- you have the ability to take it away.
It’s a beautiful disaster. You’re unavoidable. You’re always here even when you’re not. There always seems to be a grey cloud following me- and I never know when you’ll just
You always know how to let me know you’re close by- a constant reminder that you’re in control & not just of the weather. Cause when it rains, my mood is elevated, or deflated. Cause when it rains all I see is you and I don’t know whether I want to shut my eyes tightly, or keep them peeled open.
I don’t know if I should have my umbrella ready or just let you drown me so I can feel you. Because even though I’m soaking wet it’s this weird feeling, a mix of emotions both good and bad, because I yearn to be noticed by you. I need you to pound me with your loud thuds that slam against my forehead, the puddles I cautiously jump in. But I need the Sun to exude rays of sunshine that burn my face. I need something to know.
I also hear its cliché and a major red flag to talk about your ex on first dates. Luckily, we were never more than unrequited love for a span of too long to keep track of. And now, it doesn’t rain. I don’t know what the weather is, I don’t know whether to carry an umbrella, wear a rain coat or break out the Birkenstock’s. That’s just it- you’re unpredictable, once I’m used to the rain, you go away.
I’ve grown quite the strange accustom to the sound of raindrops smacking up against my face, as they slowly slither down my body, and just as I shut my eyes, and lay out my tongue to feel the cool drop….it stops.
The Sun comes forward and it’s as if it never rained. As if we never existed.