When the rain falls...(incomplete)

         It had never occurred to me that she would ever try something as simple as just walking out the door. Numb from shock, I realized that she wouldn’t come back no matter how much I begged and cried. I was selfish, and she’d had enough. The perfect recipe for disaster; how often had I seen couples succumb to it themselves and decided that this situation would never arise? Sadly I couldn’t see past my own faults and shortcomings. The door stayed ajar for a while as I stood there wondering what to do next. Slowly as the sky turned darker, the winds picked up and I was finally forced to close what she had left open, and pick up what she had left behind.

         The few steps it took me to get from where I was rooted, to the swaying door were easily the hardest I’d ever taken. By the time I reached for the doorknob, the first drops of the first rain of June began to make their appearance on the stage of my porch. Beautiful brown wood, covered in waterproof lacquer which protected it from the harsh snow and plentiful heat; this porch was my…our sanctuary. Lord knows how many hours we spent laying down together in our white hammock on the far side, by the trees in the fall. Nothing but a cool breeze that ruffled her hair would bother us in our little bubble.

         But today, the hammock was different. I walked towards it and began to notice its flaws: it was not set up expertly and many a time I had to refer to the manual I grudgingly kept (her idea) to make sure it would not collapse with us in it. Its whiteness was beginning to fade to a very, slight off-white colour, and most importantly, she wasn’t sitting in it. She had a favorite position which began as more of an upright studious seating, leading into her laying on her side, brushing her hair out of her face every now and then. Finally, the pose in which I caught her most often, was when she had gotten decidedly tired of reading whatever her topic of interest was, and simply let the book rest upon her soft face and hands crossed, she fell asleep.

         The winds pick up as I take a seat slowly rocking back and forth on…my hammock…no longer was anything ‘ours’, but it was now ‘mine’ or ‘hers’. The wood creaks as I begin to rock back and forth to create a momentum that will allow me to lay back and sway into sleep. Gently, like a child, I swing my legs up and into the hammock as the rain, now in full downpour is blown onto my cold frame by the relentless gale. I slip in and out of consciousness as I dream of when things were lovely between us. Passion and fire, not fire and brimstone. We had a wonderful first year and were well on our way to a second year when things just weren’t the same anymore. I claim full responsibility for it as well. For some reason, I had decided that just because we were getting on great, it was fine to ease off a little. I got comfortable, which had the opposite effect on her. Two years went by like that, and little by little, we began having more and more arguments. Looking back, it was mostly me being selfish and not really worth it for her. She could’ve moved on a long time ago, but she stayed because she loved me. She loved me enough to give me chance, after chance, after chance, until finally, she’d had enough.

         Our last year was remarkable really. I picked up my game as much as I could, I had my life straight, and most of all, I made sure she was always happy. Until I started slipping again. Till this day, I don’t understand why it happened. Why I started thinking less, getting more angry each time she didn’t want to kiss me, demanding like a child, and forcing things on her. We’ve talked about it millions of times and each time, it got worse. Just when it got better, I made some other careless mistake. Most of the time it was just me being dumb that started everything, and it simply snowballed from there. Eventually I began to see how selfish I was. Even though she was miserable, she loved me enough to keep giving me chances, and I was so selfish that I kept trying. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that this would lead to no good. I was so pathetic. I loved her regardless of how much she hated me. I loved her besides the fact that I could not keep her happy. I loved her so selfishly, that I couldn’t end it with my own hands, and so I let us both suffer.


Together we were, yet our hearts apart, two different beings mismatched from the start.

         As the clouds covered the sky and the heavens began to cry,

         I swung back and forth, and batted my eyes.

If I would’ve changed, would things have been better?

Or would time have lied and hid faults, forever?

         I may never know now, with you out that door,

         But as the rain falls, we both hit the floor.



         Clutching my head, I stumble up and manage to make my way inside the house. Stupid me, I swung too far and fell off. She would’ve loved that. Groaning, I shut the door and head upstairs. Stripping off the wet clothes that stick to my skin and throwing them on the bed, I head towards the shower and temporary relief from my pain. The water was cold at first, like the rain outside, but it warmed up soon enough. I stayed in there for what seemed like hours, just letting it all out. It was finally over. Four years of ups and downs and it was over in what felt like a little over an hour. She came in early from work and I knew something was wrong. Not the usual grumpiness she carried home, not the way she looked at me when she was upset…no it was something much worse. It was her giving up.

         I heard her walk in from the kitchen where I was cooking.

         “I’ll be out in a second honey, let me turn this off real quick.” I hollered.

         Quickly turning off the stove and taking the cooking mittens off, I walked into the room and felt the change in emotion. She walked up to me and hugged me tightly. I responded by lacing my arms around her waist and kissing her cheek.

         “I love you,” she whispered quietly, “and I’m leaving.”
         She turned around quickly and went upstairs as I stood there, trying to process what she said. Instantly, a million questions ran through my head. Was it me? Did she find someone else? What can I do to stop her? What do I say? Why am I still downstairs? Stop her! Go talk to her! But what do I say? What can I do?

         Yet somewhere deep down in the back of my heart, I knew that it was for the better. She deserved more than what I could give her, no matter how much I loved her. Regardless of how much I loved her, it was about how happy I could make her, and sadly, I had failed. The girl of my dreams, my life’s motivation, my best friend, my everything…was now leaving me. The worst part, was that it was my fault.

         No…I lied.

         The worst part of it all was that it was my fault, I saw it coming, and still did nothing to prevent it.

         I followed her upstairs to the bedroom where she was packing up her belongings, which were spread out across what used to be our bed, and tried to talk to her. She replied in neutral, one word sentences, each one of which drove a stake further into my heart. I had gone over this scenario hundreds of times in my head, but nothing prepared me for how she really reacted. It was far less emotional than what I had ever imagined, but that was what hurt. The fact that she could put aside the fact that she loved me and do what was best for her. I guess even in the end, I was selfish…making her hang on for longer than she should have, and keeping her dangling on the small thread of love that she had for me. Both of us were miserable, but it finally snapped. What was once a beautiful flower, had ridden the waves of its prime. Its petals were now wilting, and its beauty becoming a long lost memory.

         Steam flowed out of the shower as I came out wrapped in nothing but a towel, completely ignoring my reflection in the mirror. I couldn’t bear to look at myself. Not now, and perhaps not for a while. I sat down on the edge of the king size bed and just cooled off. I let the heat simmer off of my quivering frame. I might have stayed in there for too long, but it didn’t matter. I hated myself. I loathed every single atom that formed my being. I found no solace in the fact that she would be happy, I only found hate. Self-hate.

         “Even now, I can only think about how I feel.” I chuckled, pathetically holding back tears, “I hope you can really be happy now baby.” I choked. “Just be happy.”

         Thunder rumbled in the distance as I threw some pajamas on and flung myself into bed for a long nights sleep; sleep that I knew both of us needed. Yet what was the point really? I would only wake up alone, sad, and quivering. She would not be there when I needed her the most, and for the most part….It was meant to be.

Love, once lost would never be found again.
Once found, should be cherished till the very end.
Till forever, and more should the boundaries go,
Should it go, till it dies? The answer? Unknown.