We were caught in the rain and had just learned that we were locked out of the house.

Somewhere in between playing in puddles and searching for a way inside…we shared a different sort of kiss, and then a slower one. Before I knew it I felt the electricity of his body near mine and the cool brick of the building pressed against my back.

It has come to this…an unlocked window.

He climbed in after me not even bothering to close it behind us. I watched as he clumsily kicked off his shoes and smiled at me, noticing how we were falling through the window, onto the couch and into each other.

It’s not easy removing wet clothing…it’s not smooth or graceful but our laughter and relentless determination to make love was enough.

“Are you warm?”  

“Come closer and I will be.”

So we were a little corny, oh well—passion can do that to people.

When I find myself lounging around on a rainy day my mind undoubtedly re-plays that afternoon; the goosebumps, the drops of water that fell from his hair onto my face, the look in his eyes when I made that certain sound.

How the concept of time disappeared and we became hungry beings on a search for the secrets of each others bodies and souls. The way our heartbeats and our breath found a complementary rhythm…

We made music, he and I.

Music that still melts me if I think of it for too long—which is easy to do these days. I tried to convince myself that I had forgotten his voice, but that is untrue. It sounds about the same, only a little more hardened and a lot more slurred.

Part of me longs to take him away from this habit he has befriended. I want to hold his head to my chest so he will know how my heart still pounds in his presence. So he will know that I lied—we’re no longer lovers, yet I am still alive.

“I am going to marry you someday, I promise.”

He never did break a promise to me. Because of this, no matter how many times I try to close the door, I seem to always find where hope sneaks through the cracks.

This is the part where I wrap it all up nice and neat with some empowering statement about how clear it is that we’re so wrong together, right? But I won’t do that.

So often, my memories and fantasies become a tangled mess that my mind won’t let go of…and that’s okay sometimes.

It may be true for this moment that we do not match, but everything changes, right?

Closing the heart is not the answer and it is vital for me to admit where I stand, for how else am I to grow? I will continue on my path while remaining open…open to the possibility of running into him on a rainy day.

So for now, getting acquainted with my heartache is all I can do.

 

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Relephant Read:

Soul Mates & Choices: When the End is not the End.

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Author: Taylor Bland

Editor: Renee Jahnke

Image: Stylowi Fotografia