Chapter Text
Turning my gaze to the window, everything outside looks grey. The buildings, the roads, the sky and the rain. Even people holding dark umbrellas get mixed with the scenery. The breeze is cold, so I grab a black hoodie just to match with the mood, get dressed and go out of this lonely room. I doubt in grabbing an umbrella to protect myself from the rain but at the end I get out of the building with nothing but a notepad in one hand and a black pen in the other. The weight of the cell phone in my pocket is really bothering me but I can"t do anything about it. Nobody is calling.
I start wandering around without a plan or a destination. All I can see is a dead city with dead citizens, way too busy to enjoy nature, if there was some. There is no track of the sun, but the clouds make the sky look as if it was shining. It is too bright. I should have brought some sunglasses; this light is pissing me off as well.
By the time I arrive to the nearest park from the apartment I live in, the rain has stopped but my clothes are already soaked. I sit down on a bench and check if all the work I had done previously is destroyed by the rain, but fortunately (or unfortunately) is still alive. I want to write something useful for the new song I"m working on, but having many thoughts in my head, or maybe no thoughts at all is not helping. I wish someone called.
I look around the park but there is no single soul, I am all alone. It feels like everyone received a mail that they all were sailing to the moon, but they forgot to add my email address; or maybe it is that no one likes to get all wet under a storm when you can perfectly stay at home on a rainy day. I pick up the pen from the bench where I placed it before and try to write something. My head is down to my heels when I realize the puddles in the pavement. They are like mirrors, so I can see my reflection. I wonder when I started hating myself so much that I cannot even stare at it for more than five seconds.
The park looks empty with all those fallen leaves that normally flow around with the blow of the wind, now stuck to the wet floor. The branches of the trees make me think of extended arms asking for something to hold on. Someone.
I used to think autumn was the best season, with those blue and bright skies, the cool air and the brownish dry leaves that fall like the cherry blossoms in spring. Everything felt warm, even without wearing any jacket. Now that he’s gone, I have realized that I did not like the season, but him. He was my autumn. He would light up my world with his endless smile and terrible dad-jokes he was always telling. My heart would burn in flames with the sound of his laugh, knowing that he may be laughing because of something silly I did or said.
Our relationship was that tree that we planted in early spring long time ago, watered through the hot days of summer and protected from the freezing cold of a bad day of winter. We never had a rainy autumn, because autumn was supposed to be happy, just like him. He was my autumn, and now that a real rainy, cloudy and cold autumn has come, he’s become my fifth season. A whole brand-new season that showed me and taught me more about myself than I myself knew. I no longer can see him, even though his memory is still clinging to those branches. If the last leaf falls, I know everything will be lost. Our love and all those memories we made will be gone with him.
Tears start falling down my cheeks like the rain drops as I predicted, so I end up putting the notepad and the pen back in the empty pocket of my pants and walking back home. As I take a step, rain starts pouring again. I know for sure I will catch a cold, but I don’t even care anymore.
As I approach the main avenue people start appearing by my side, but I doubt anyone can see me; umbrellas won’t allow them to see my soaked face, either for the raindrops or the tears. All the way back home passes in slow motion, there is no rush to arrive anywhere, there is no one waiting at home.
After entering the little dark room, I decided to take a shower and change to dry clothes, not because I care but because he would care. I feel a little bit better after the shower, so I grab my phone to see no messages, not even from that friend who always tries to cheer me up. I guess he’s already tired of trying and failing every day. I’m tired of this routine, as well.
The sound of the rain crashing on the window makes me think of an invisible friend, visiting me and asking how I’ve been doing, and why the happy autumn is not here anymore. It doesn’t like to come on days it’s not supposed to come.
“Why are you still living?”
I live because I can’t die, I cannot let that last leaf of the tree we planted fall down. If I try to touch it, everything will crumble. All the things I thought would last forever are leaving me behind, and that is the only thing that reminisces.
The first day he was gone I said that I would hate him for leaving me, but honestly, there hasn’t been a day without thinking about him. I miss him, but this rain has taught me that I can’t wait anymore for something that is not going to happen. For someone who is not going to come back.
I hope the next spring comes soon again, since no season is eternal, I will be waiting patiently. This rain will pass. Life will continue and I will keep holding onto that lovely tree with its last green leaf swaying with the wind.
The next morning, I wake up with a ray of sunshine heating up the left side of my face. I open my eyes just to see that the rain has stopped during the night and now the sun is shining powerfully. I get up from bed, hoping my grief and sorrow have also disappeared. Looking out the window, the rain has gone with him but everything else, the grey buildings, grey cities and grey feelings remain the same.
Maybe sadness is the only thing that lasts forever.