thoughts about the rain

I sit here alone in my house, feeling the cold, listening to the sounds the rain brings. 

I love it when it rains. I love the cold, the darkness, the smell of the wet earth, even the sound of a horde of frogs croaking like cows.

I have always felt comfortable in the rain. Rain is a lovely thing to feel. It captivates all of one's human senses: the raindrops mesmerize the eyes, the numerous sounds that come with rain intrigue the ears, the aroma of water mixing with earthly elements tingles the nose, the coolness of the air touches the skin, and altogether you can just taste the feeling. 

Rain allows me to appreciate the atmosphere around me fully and allows me to explore my inner being curiously. Besides letting me become more in tune with the environment, it also makes me more conscious of my own thoughts and feelings. 

When I was younger I wrote songs and stories, and I remember doing it often during a rainy day. This was a time when I was growing and going up, and a lot of thoughts and emotions were brewing within me. It was easier to write them down than to talk about them with other people, so the rain became my companion. 

Eventually, I learned to become more social and let real people become my companions in every journey of my life, even the rough ones. Still, the rain occupies a special place in my heart. 

Every now and then, when it rains, I allow myself to become that young girl again, letting the rain share in my melancholy.

So today, as I sit here, alone, cold, and experiencing an inner crisis, I am that young girl sharing her self with the rain, basking in its companionship of dark clouds and frog croaks.