There’s something about the rain that brings you back to me. It’s like the sky knows how to stir up old memories, the kind that linger just below the surface, waiting for a downpour to break free. Each raindrop is a whisper of the past, a gentle reminder of days when we were wrapped up in each other’s worlds, untouched by the storms that would eventually tear us apart.
On rainy days, the world feels softer, and in that softness, I find traces of us. I think of the times we walked through the rain, not caring about getting wet, our laughter mingling with the sound of the falling water. Those moments felt like secrets shared between us and the universe like the rain was a curtain shielding us from everything but each other. We didn’t need umbrellas; we had our closeness, our unspoken understanding that together we were invincible, even against the worst of weather.
Now, when the clouds gather and the first drops start to fall, I can’t help but miss those days. I miss the comfort of your presence, the way we napped in the library that one time, your arm around my shoulder, keeping the cold at bay. There was magic in those moments, a quiet certainty that we would always find warmth in each other no matter how hard it rained. But seasons change, and so do we.
I’ve often wondered if, given the chance, we could have patched the leaks, and sealed the cracks that let the rain in. But some things are meant to be fleeting, beautiful for their impermanence.
So, on rainy days like this, I let myself feel the weight of your absence. I let the memories come, not to dwell in sadness, but to honor what was. Missing you on these days is like missing a part of myself, a version of me that existed only when we were together. It’s not about wanting to go back, but about acknowledging your impact on my life, and how deeply you were woven into my story.
The rain will pass, as it always does, leaving behind a clearer sky. And I’ll move forward, as I have learned to, carrying the echoes of our past like a quiet song that plays on rainy days. I miss you then, in those fleeting moments, when the world slows down, and the rain taps at my window, like a memory that refuses to be forgotten.
To an ex-love who, on rainy days, I miss: you are a part of the landscape of my heart. Among other things, the rain will always bring you to mind, not with bitterness, but with a soft, nostalgic smile for what once was.
