The Rain is so fitting tonight.

“The rain is so fitting tonight. Saying all the words I fail to express.”
I wrote this in the note I never gave you.
I remember that night clearly. He liked me, I liked him.
It was a memorable week, but it was only one week.  A mere seven days I knew him. 
I didn’t want to say goodbye. I’ll never forget that last embrace we shared.
We will never see each other again.
It rained a lot that short week.
I remember the first night we met, we talked for over an hour, amongst all those people, in our little corner under the pavilion. It was pouring, thundering, but somehow I didn’t care. We shared so much that night, everyone kept staring and talking about us, but we didn’t care. All we wanted was each other, although it was slightly forbidden. 
Each moment we shared, I remember how I felt. I felt cherished and accepted.
That last night, I remember we got separated amongst all those people who were crying and saying goodbye to one another. 
I called you about ten times, I was afraid you’d leave without us properly parting ways.
But we found each other. I remember we walked slowly to my dorm, mostly in silence, knowing we’d probably never meet again. 
I remember I hugged you for a few seconds, thinking, I’ll miss you. 
It was such a sad situation to leave you like that in the rain. To leave you all alone standing there without an umbrella or anything to protect you from the cold, Summer rain. I looked back longingly as I was walking to the door, lightening flashing all around, we didn’t care, and you were still there, gazing towards me, and I remembered, this would be the last time I laid eyes on you.
It was so ironic that the first and last time we met it began to rain, and then pour. 
But Oh, what a week. We had fun, didn’t we? 
I don’t regret meeting you for we had our brief love. 
Summer of 2018. I think about you now and then. How much that rain expressed what I wanted to tell you and what I can’t forget. 
Now every time I see the rain, I think about the way we were that first and last day. 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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