It always rains in Brittany

I remember the way it used to feel.
The unending happiness that once was shared despite your tormented memories of unwanted hands, and faces that sinisterly caressed you.
You hate the rain, but your life was always full of it. The beach, house, street, your face and eyes full of the rain.
Those small reminders battering your mind, the constant fear of being alone, my warm embrace was only used.
Merely a shell of your wants and desire. I cannot fill your life anymore, I cannot give that warmth, I cannot change the world, and I cannot heal the wounds that make you recoil from touch. Mine was forgiveness, mine was grief, mine was that which you coveted with false promises.
You watch and splash with delight, but never know the damage that you brought. The rain is temporary and fades with a smile. The stains remain tattered, hoping, wanting yet never receiving your admiration. It was but a false hope of desire, small drops of lust, and dust swept away now buried within the mist that adorns your heart. The callous life I hate, is the one you drowned me in. 

Author's Note

I have no idea.