I enjoy a good rainy day. And Miami has its fair share - sideways rain, straight down rain, hurricane rain, rain that comes from a cloudless sky (still don't get it), rain that seems to come from below, fried shrimp, boiled shrimp, shrimp gumbo…oh wait.
Anywho, I enjoy a nice shower, no matter what kind. It immediately makes me want a cup of tea, a good book, a snuggly cat on my feet, and a Harry Potter marathon on in the background (yes, this is my current situation, why do you ask). And it just seems that whenever it rains, I’m given permission to feel the things that normally get pushed to the back of my independent, ambitious, always-on, power-through self - things like nostalgia, longing, sadness. In the day to day hustle (and it is a hustle even if its not of the gangsta type), these softer thoughts and feelings seem to have no place. I have goals and dreams and things that straight up need to get done, and being all nostalgic and mopey is generally not the best way to advance in this day and age of “yep I buy my own, if he deserve it buy his shit too.” 10 points to Gryffindor if you know who said that.
But, when it rains, I can really feel. I can reminisce. I can dredge up the past. I can read old diaries, look at photos from high school, wonder what my first boyfriend is up to these days. I can think back to how life used to be, and feel sad that it's not that way anymore, and get that pressure in my heart that means I’ve somehow changed from who I was and that a return to that person is impossible, and then feel sad about that too. Because it's a good sad. It's a sad that is contained, specific, acute. In a strange perversion of the the human soul, it's a sadness that can be enjoyed. Just like rainy days. Even though its not all sunny and bluebirds aren’t joyfully helping me pin up my golden locks because they’re being swept down a raging river of rainwater, its nice and I'm happy. Rain on, day.
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