01.11.2023

Just an old journal entry I recently looked back at

I used to think that walking to the bus stop in the rain was quite possibly the loneliest thing. No umbrella, just drops of cold unwelcoming water falling from the gloomy sky. Even the streetlights seemed a little dimmer, as if they felt guilty for gazing down at my sullen posture.

 I used to think that those dim lights were awful. I couldn’t see enough of a color or shape for me to feel reassured, to know what was there and what wasn’t. 

Nowadays, I find dim lights to be more comforting. Late night showers in the almost-dark. Flickering candles and golden lamp lights. Those guilt-ridden streetlights that walk me home. Dim lights mean less to discern, less information to process. 

Nowadays, I find myself hoping for it to rain so I can watch from my seat by the window. So I can watch the droplets kiss the window glass, intently waiting for a chance to step outside. No umbrella, just cold crisp air, and drops of water falling from the moving sky. Even with my arms aching and my head pounding, I am anchored by the misty breeze. I wait for drops of rain to fall on my glasses, for my view of the clouds to smear out of sight. 

-S