daughter of the rain

perhaps it is all in my head, maybe I read too much into things, looking for signs I want to see but I believe that I am connected to the rain.

not literally, not one hundred percent either but just an overlap like the middle of a Venn diagram, like a child to a mother or a guardian to its charge. I say all this because it always rains when I feel sad or alone or even when I don’t know how I feel but too much. The rain comes when I need it, both when I am alone and when I am with others and when I step back, I always realize why. 

It doesn’t rain in southern Spain and yet, it rained yesterday when Amani and I were walking down from the Sacromonte, the Gypsy neighborhood. The timing was perfect-we just made it to my favorite little cafe before it began to pour. We sat inside and drank and talked while the water poured down. And then today, after I left the women’s center my other apartment mate Natalie goes to, where I had just gone to discuss an intercambio and learned that the woman I was going to do it with is moving, a few drops fell from the sky. Not enough to notice really but yet there they were and I had to smile.

Because today has been the worst day yet for me. Maybe because I didn’t have anything scheduled to force me out, maybe because it’s been a week so some of the novelty has warn off, maybe for a thousand reasons but today my soul seemed to be clawing at my body to get out and away. And then the drops fell.

It all fell away. My anger at myself I suppose. My anxiety. The two worst ingredients in my mood were grabbed by the rain and washed away. Change is your enemy, the rain whispered, look how much you’ve faced and yet you’re still standing. 

Why can I never remember that? 

Whatever the reason, at least the rain finds me, no matter the place, to calm my soul. 

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