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Come Some Rainy Day
Written by: Angie
© 1999

He leaned against the frame of the large bay window, a mug filled with a steaming liquid was cradled in fingers. His stare was fixed on the outside world, the window acted as a peephole to the way his life used to be, before. A world he felt he was no longer a part of, as if he didn't deserve to know the goodness of it, or the happiness it could bring. Taking of sip from the mug, he watched the salty rain drops slide over the smooth transparent glass. He watched as each drop hit the glass, lingering for a long second, before falling down, leaving it's trail. The same trail that tears often left. Tears. Her tears. The tears that she cried so many times. Many of those times, he realizes now, he caused them, but didn't know it. Or did he? Did he realize that putting his goals before his relationships would cause her pain? Did he realize that all the nights she'd spent alone because he was off chasing his dream hurt her? It was standing in that same spot, in front of that same window, that he realized his wrongs so many months ago. Months that seemed to pass without his knowing. He's had no concept of time or days since she left. They all seemed to blend together. Another day was no more than a day full of pain in his eyes. She occupied his every thought. Everytime he attempted to sleep, her picture haunted his dreams. There was no getting away from it. No getting away from her. But did he really want to get away from it all? Away from the pain, yes. Away from her, no. He tried to put the pain aside, but to do so would be to let her go. And that was something he was not ready to do. The rain continued to fall, increasing its number of drops, as he gazed at each drop the slid over the window. Hid finger traced the trail of the rain that had fallen on the opposite of the glass, remembering how he would wipe her tears away.

Once again shifting his gaze to the outside world, he saw her. She stood there in the storm. The showers soaked her dark hair, making it curl up into the natural ringlets she always tried so hard to get rid of. There she stood, the woman he longed to have back in his life. The one that could make everything right, the one could make his world, and his heart, whole again. She seemed to stare at him for a long moment, her eyes burned into his. She began to spin in a circle, her arms flailing around her. He smiled to himself. 'Dancing in the rain,' he thought. 'She always loved to play around like that.' She suddenly stopped spinning, turning a second time to meet his eyes. Something was different. A fear suddenly struck him. Looking in her eyes, he watched them turn cold, the love that used to be there was gone. He pressed his eyes shut tightly, holding them closed for a few seconds. Upon reopening them, the figure outside his window was gone. 'She was never there,' he told himself. 'Why do you keep doing this? She's not coming back.'

He thought back to the day she told him goodbye such a long time ago. He had finally come home from being gone for a few weeks. He'd felt guilty because he hadn't called in a few days. 'Flowers fix everything,' or so he thought. He unlocked the door to their house, a bouquet of roses in one hand, his suitcase in the other. He call out to her as he came in the door, stopping abruptly when he saw that she had several suitcases of her own sitting by the front door. He heard slow steps coming down the stairway, and he hesitantly lifted his eyes. She stopped halfway down the steps. The skin around her eyes was pink, her makeup slightly smeared. She appeared almost childlike to him, clutching a teddy bear, the last of her things he later found out. He'd won it for her on their first date. It was a representation of one of the 'fond memories,' she'd called it, and she wanted to take it with her. She snuggled it to her chest as they stood in silence, their eyes locked. His suitcase dropped from his hand without him knowing it. So much was said between them in that single moment, yet not a word was shared.

He looked down, casting his eyes away from hers, feeling guilty for all the pain and loneliness he saw in her eyes. She silently made her way down the remaining stairs and across the small foyer, standing in front of him. She set her hand on his shoulder, running it over the broad plane and down his arm. She ran her hand back up it again, and over his cheek, the last time she would ever feel his soft skin under her fingertips.

He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, knowing what was to come. "Why?" he barely choked out. It was a whisper that he'd almost not heard it was so quiet.

"You'll figure it out," she whispered. "In here," she placed her hand on his chest above his heart, "you already know why. But you'll figure it out," she repeated. "When you have time to stop and just think. That's when. Come some rainy day."

He shook himself back to the present, not wanting to remember her walking out that door. He attempted to push all thoughts of her from his mind, but he couldn't. He knew now, in his heart and in his mind, just why she left him that day so long ago. It took him a long time to fully understand, but finally he did. He looked out at the rain still falling outside. The last word she'd ever spoken to him drifted through his mind. 'Come some rainy day.'

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