The Rain

She identifies with the rain. She will always fall. He sees her as the rain. She can rise after the fall.

The rain was falling so softly, but it bore a strong, heart-wrenching ache that could easily be matched to the ache in her heart. She had tried for months, maybe years now, to bury the feeling. All it would bring her was more pain.... However, looking at the rain, how could she deny what the feeling was?

The rain kept falling gently. To anyone else, it may have brought a calm peace to. All she felt was everything she had longed for that would, could, never be hers. Memories flooded her. Memories of better times. Memories that had made her laugh before. Now... they just renewed the urge to cry. No tears would come though. She hadn't cried in a long time. Could it be possible that she no longer remembered how to cry? Not that it mattered. The skies cried for her.

She looked outwards. She couldn't bear looking into her heart anymore. There was too much pain. Too much suffering. Instead she watched the rain. She focused on the way the sky's tear droplets danced on the wind down from the clouds. She watched them sway back and forth, seemingly without a pattern. She was mesmerized by how they made their journey of so far by themselves.

For a moment, the idea gave her strength. If the rain could manage to go on without someone, something aiding them in their journey, she could as well. Her hope was crushed as the watery tears splashed onto the pavement, joining their many fallen comrades.

The rain wasn't on a pleasant journey. It was on a final mission; one that only involved descending and utter defeat. Figures. The only thing that she could possibly relate to was a hopeless endeavor. She should have known better.

The rain was her. The ground was him. She had trusted him so much that she rushed to him. She threw herself at him. In the end, all he could offer her was pain and destruction. He could give her nothing more.

She looked to the sky. How nice it would have been if he had been the clouds instead. If he had held her instead of many others.... If he had been there for her.... If he had raised her above what she thought of herself. But he hadn't. He dragged her down instead. And here she was. Broken. Used. Worthless. Like the spent rain sitting on the pavement. Useless.

She turned around, barely keeping her grip on the railing. It was better this way. She looked at the icy waters below her. She would finally be returning to where she belonged. The rain, no matter what condition it was in, belonged with the waters.

“Beautiful,” a voice at her side startled her, causing her to nearly lose her grip. She managed to recover and looked to see who had spoken.

There stood a man, a few years her senior. He looked like he had seen battles he had never wished to fight and a look of despair consumed his face.

She swallowed hard, trying to keep her guilt down and away, “Yeah, the rain is beautiful, especially around this time of year.”

He halfway chuckled, “Wasn't talking about the rain.” He swung his leg over the railing. The other soon followed so that he stood beside her on the ledge.

She gave him a concerned, confused look.

He smiled, “If there is one thing I learned, you gotta live on the edge. Sometimes, it's the only way you know you're alive.”

She looked away and muttered, “And sometimes it just makes you wonder why you are alive.”

“I'll give you that.”

Surprised by his reply, she turned back to look at him. He was leaning over the edge with one arm holding the rail. She gasped and reached to pull him back. Nearly falling herself, she realized the attempt was in vain and had almost caused her to fall.

He laughed, “You know what I love about the rain.”

She closed her eyes and let out a breath. He was going to say it was calming. It wasn't. It brought on a storm of emotions she wasn't prepared to deal with, that she didn't want to deal with.

“It rises.”

Her eyes went wide open, “It rises?”

Again he smiled, “It rises.” He lifted his free hand to the sky, “No matter how many times it falls... it rises back to the clouds and joins them. Sometimes for a short while, sometimes forever. It's amazing.”

She felt tears rise up in her, but they didn't reach her eyes, “How is the rain supposed to rise after being used, beaten, broken, and replaced? How is the rain supposed to rise after losing the only thing she thought she could count on? How is the rain supposed to rise it has no reason to rise? How am I supposed to forgive him?”

He reached his hand out to her, “The first step would be getting on the other side of this rail. All this side holds is descent. If you want to rise, I think you've fallen far enough. Then again...,” he sighed, “I think we both have.” He closed his eyes for a moment.

“What happened?” she asked. Genuine concern was welling up inside her. She couldn't help but feel worried and interested in this man.

“Step onto the other side of the rail and I'll tell you.”

She raised an eyebrow, but hesitantly complied. It took only a few seconds before he followed suit.

Taking a deep breath, he started his story. He told her about how his sister and he had fallen hard into debt when his parents died in a car accident. He told her about how desperate they had become, which forced him to enlist into the army to save his sister from prostitution. Tears filled his eyes as he told her when he came back from war, he had discovered enlisting had been pointless. The debt collectors had forced her into it anyway. He cried for a few minutes and she found tears filled her eyes. Finally, he finished his story.

“Two years ago today, she decided that I wasn't coming back for her. She couldn't take it anymore and decided the descending side of the rail was too tempting. She stepped off the edge just before noon. Eleven, twenty-three. My plane landed in the city at twelve, ten. By then, she was gone. I come back every year, try to stand in the spot she stood, try to understand what she thought, try to be close to her one last time. But it was pointless.”

“So you are saving me in her place?” suddenly, she felt offended. She wanted to walk away but she knew he had more to say.

“No. She is irreplaceable. What you don't understand is that you have your own unique place in this world. I'm not saving you for her sake. I'm not even saving you. I'm just talking to you.”

She looked at him and before she could stop herself, she told him everything. She told him how her cousins had devised a cruel “game”. She told him about when she told her parents what her cousins were doing and how they brushed it off as “boys will be boys”. She told him about how the abuse continued late into her teens. By then it had become so bred into her that she thought that was all she deserved. She told him about how abusive her first two boyfriends were. She told him about her college boyfriend, the guy she had chosen to marry. He treated her like dirt, he cheated on her, he abused her, and then he divorced her, taking everything with him. Her family wanted nothing to do with her and her boss was his friend. She was jobless, homeless, and loveless.

He pulled her into a hug. “You are the rain,” he whispered, “You fall, you get hurt, you feel useless, worthless, and unwanted, but you are needed. You are necessary. You nurture others and you will shine one day. You will rise and put this all behind you.”

She looked up him, “How do you know?”

“Because you are the rain and so was I.”

For the first time in years, she cried. Maybe, just maybe he was right. Things were going to be okay.