The Rain

She loved the rain. She loved how it made it seem as if she wasn't crying. Or at least not alone, as the heavy downpour made it almost seem as if the sky was crying with her. The cool drops ran in rivulets down her face, she couldn't distinguish the difference between that and her tears which ran in salty streams, intertwining with the rain, like the intricate map of venules leading towards her veins.

The rain made it feel as if her troubles were being washed away. Carried with the cool stream into the soggy ground at her feet.

She had at long last ran out of tears and yet the rain seemed to be relentless, almost as if the heavens were crying on her behalf. Wailing out the words she could no longer bring herself to say in a gust of howling wind and stinging drops.

Refreshed, soaked to the bone and shivering, she then realised that the reason she loves the rain so much was because it seemed to console her and strangely it shook her out of her everyday stupor and reminded her that she was still alive.

Morbid.

The loud thunderous downpour drowned out her thoughts, which once raced through her mind like a swarm of bees awakened and driven to a mindless fury with the destruction of their hive, stabbing and probing on the edge of her subconscious. Piercing her frail shielded mind and releasing thoughts which burnt through her mind to her heart, leaving behind a searing bitter, acid-like feeling. The rain was a remedy. Calming her mind and neutralizing the trail of shimmering pain her thoughts left behind.

It was like a painkiller.

It numbed her.

Alleviating the burden of the self-deprecating, destructive thoughts which took permanent residence in her brain and converting her to a somewhat alarming, zen-like state.

Meditation? Nah, call its soul cleansing.

To put it simply, it took away the pain.

After all, "The only thing worse than feeling anything was feeling everything" and being completely unable to do anything about it.