The Rain and Me?

We have a very complicated relationship.

I hate the rain

The rain hates me.

Or at least, that's what I used to think.

But then, I realized...

I don't hate the rain that much at all.

I don't think I hate the rain that much anymore.

It's raining again

But I don't have that hollow sinking feeling in my stomach anymore.

I know that nothing bad is going to happen.

And if something does, it's not the rain which caused it.

The rain is cold, indeed

It means I would just have to get stronger

Wiser

More... resilient against the winds.

All because it was raining and someone offered me their handkerchief instead of an umbrella.

That's why, I don't think I hate the rain that much anymore.  

I don't hate the rain that much anymore.

The rain didn't keep me inside

or alone

or lonely

It was my fear that did that.

I let it keep me inside my shell,

My walls.

Those walls kept anyone from getting in

Because I was afraid.

I still am.

But from now on, I'm going out there

Even if it's raining.

Because I don't hate the rain that much anymore.

Now that I think about it, Dad loved the rain.

I can't remember why but he always sings and play the piano whenever it was raining.

He said the clouds are sad and he was just trying to cheer them up.

And even though I hated the rain

Remembering the sound of his voice with music of the raindrops against the roof makes me smile now.

All because someone told me the clouds were crying with me.

Which is why I don't hate the rain that much anymore.