3am, in the rain

it's 3am again. i know this hour too well. its comforts, its demons. the gentle pitter-patter of water droplets against the wooden deck. the soft howl of the wind.

i step outside, the moss-colored patio umbrella shielding me from the precipitation. yet, the rain, it calls me. one step forward. another. and another. suddenly, my entire body is enshrouded in cool beads of water. i have embraced it.

i quicken my pace to a light jog. a journey through the neighborhood, not a single soul awake. street lamp after street lamp, car after car i admire the simplicity in all its glory. the beams of light emanating from the bulbs of each lamp, emphasizing the drizzle of rain. the rain drops, trickling down the windows of each car. the rain, falling from the sky. like how i fell for you.

i jogged down center street, for i didn't have to worry about the traffic. i jogged down center street, imagining how you would comfort me with your warmth on this cold, dreary night. i jogged down center street, and i watched the stars, hoping they would give me a sign. that you were still out there somewhere. that we would meet again. that you weren't an ghost of the past, but an abstraction of the future. however, the clouds obstructed the stars and i was alone once again. the faint sliver of silver moonlight that shined through couldn't compare to the fire you radiated.

4am again, i return. once again, disappearing into the comfort of my green umbrella. i flip the switch on its pole, the dim fairy lights ignite, a sanctuary in a world of dark. i lay, watching the lights flicker and shine, a small sphere of solace insulating me from the aggressive downpour. and for a moment, i felt like i could. like i didn't need you. but how far was that from the truth?

after all, it could've been us laying under that umbrella. listening to soft indie tunes, giggling in lethargic half-consciousness. but it was just me. alone. thinking about the day i fell for you. your eyes, your smile. how you were so bad at parking you had to retry twice. the time i told a really lame joke but you laughed anyway. the time our third group member left to get breakfast and you asked me how my weekend was, but i was too nervous to give a good answer. the time you asked me what music i listened to but i didn't give a conclusive answer because i didn't want to disclose that i had your spotify playlists on repeat.

were we meant for each other? probably not. will we ever cross paths again? probably not. but maybe one day i'll send you this post, maybe we'll talk for a little. maybe we'll reminisce a bit together. maybe you could listen to my playlists like i did yours. but for now, all i have are the songs that remind me of you.