The Pouring Rain
Drenched Heart
I never hate the rain.
It just…
it pours with no greeting,
nor the announcement of its arrival.
And I hate being unprepared.
I hate waiting under the circumstances
where I don’t know what to do,
don’t know what to expect.
Whether it will stop soon,
or get heavier.
Whether it's worth the wait,
or better to get drenched for one and all.
I’m asking myself,
if I hate the rain so much for that reason,
why am I letting myself fall for a promise
that came from the mouth of someone deceitful?
Get Nofita Chandra’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
What do I expect?
A magic over one night
that turns the logic into ashes
and replaces it with an overflowing feeling?
Let’s not play saint and be honest about what it is.
If it is hurtful, then it is.
If it is ambiguous, then it is.
If it is not okay to wait, then stop waiting.
Let’s not play with the heart,
just to act surprised once it hurts.
Because even if I hate when the rain falls down,
I keep going outside
with a cap on,
or with an umbrella over my head.
Or even,
I could wait inside until it's done
then go out.
I have a thousand options to choose.
So, why do I stay for one that keep me hanging?
Writers, bring your chaos, your charm, and your half-baked drafts — Beyond Lines is ready for the beautiful mess. Let’s publish it!
