It’s raining again today. And just like so many times before, you came to mind.
There’s this one memory that always returns when it rains—the one where you sent me a video from your place. I couldn’t even see the rain clearly, but I could hear it… and your voice in the background. I remember how much you said you loved the rain.
Funny how I used to hate it. I really did.
But because of you, I started to love it in small ways. Like how it waters the plants for me, saving me the effort of lugging a heavy pail since our hose doesn’t quite reach everything. Rain makes things a little easier, a little softer.
But it’s not just the plants I think about.
The rain brings back all sorts of memories—some sweet, some a bit wild (I’ll keep that one to myself). Still, they all point back to a time I miss. I hope you’re doing well, wherever you are. As for me? I’m still finding my way. Still not quite okay.
I sent you an email recently, hoping you’d see it. I don’t know if you will. It’s the only thing I could hold onto—your email address still stuck in my memory. I deleted Dark Wars, disabled Discord, and I couldn’t find you on Telegram anymore.
But the rain? It finds me every time.