It comes like rain. You

It comes like rain. You never expect that first drop to hit you, but it does. And once it does it all comes pouring down faster and faster until you can't see anymore. Until you can't breathe anymore. It's all around you and there's nothing you can do about it. That umbrella you left in the car can't help you now. Once that firsr drop hits, you're history. It consumes you, it erases you, it envelops you. You lose yourself in the cascading torrent that is beating all around you. Nothing can save you now, you're gone. What was it like, to see the sun? The birds, the clouds? You can't remember, and that frightens you. You can't remember your own name. But you remember darkness. You remember the cool, wet droplets sliding off your face and falling to careless puddles on the ground. You remember the flower turning its leaves up to drink in the water; it's hungry, always asking for more, never satisfied. But that's you, too, isn't it? That's why you're here in the first place. Alone, in the rain. You weren't satisfied. You aren't satisfied. You're hungry for more. Want to know the catch? You can't have it. It's not meant for you: this happiness, this desire, this need. It's not yours. Someone else gets it. But you're used to it, aren't you? Someone else always gets it. But it's ok. You have the rain. It's washing away the tears. Are they tears anymore? You can't tell. It's nice to forget. To not remember. But then you're always reminded again. Because when that rain goes away, the sun, the birds, and the clouds, they will all come back whether you want them to or not. They'll come back because the rain can't stay forever. When that rain goes away, you have to pick yourself up and begin again. Whether you want to or not. Because the rain clouds move on. They don't stay. Why should you? Move on. Move. Is rain good or bad? You don't know. But one thing is for sure: it'll come back