I fell in love with her the way you would with a song. I would just sit and listen, even if she didn't always know I was there. You listen to the music and you can't help but love the singer. That was how I fell in love with her.
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It was as simple as breathing. I tried to fight it, but that meant suffocating myself. I had no choice but to breathe her in, and eventually she'd bled through into the most crucial parts of me. I knew there would be no way to save myself from the inevitable pain that would come from losing her. So I just let it happen. I fell.
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And when I lost her, it felt like sinking, like drowning. I felt the best parts of me--the ones she inhabited-- fall apart and die with her. The pain burned in my chest until it all just collapsed.
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The breathing finally stopped.
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I felt empty. My eyes are dry and empty, even with the rain pouring down.
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I didn't know if I would ever feel anything like what I felt with her. To be fair, I never want to feel that again. What I felt belonged with her, and it died with her. As it should. I couldn't have her. Not anymore.
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Now all I do is drown. I drown in the rain she left behind.
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I always hated the sickeningly damp smell of rain, the way my clothes cling to my skin as it pours down, turning my soft clothes to sandpaper. But it’s the only thing she left behind. I wish she had left behind something more enjoyable, more practical. Maybe then I could go on detesting the rain and its awful smell.
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I would never have to love the way the raindrops kiss my skin, the way the breeze speaks to me, leaving her scent behind in the trees, the leaves, and the grass stains on my knees. Her memory poisons everything. Even the things I want to hate.
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So here I am. Sitting in my car, gazing out my window at the gray sky. Raindrops tap against the glass, creating a steady rhythm. I step out of the car and walk slowly around the brush of the forest, the soft ground collapsing below my feet. I look up at the sky as the rain falls harder, taking a deep breath and closing my eyes, letting the cold droplets hit my face.
Sometimes, when I really stop and close my eyes, I can still hear her laughter, the way she smiled at me, the curve of her lips, and the glimmer in her eyes. I always noticed how her hair curled into small, tight coils, falling neatly on her back and shoulders whenever it got wet.
But when she was alive, I never really noticed the rain– mostly because I hated it– but now that she's gone, it's all I see-- and wait to see. I wonder how many days have passed. I don't know, I've stopped counting. The days after she's been gone are worse than the ones before she died. The ones filled with constant rumors and gossip. monotonous whispers I wished would end. Her death has only made them worse. Curious whispers turned malicious and misconstrued. I’d give anything to hear those annoying little whispers again. At least in that existence, that stretch of time, she’d be alive.
When I first found out she was gone, I stood in her room for hours, waiting to wake up, expecting her to be there, smiling. When the tears finally came, they were the loudest, most violent thing I've ever experienced. The way I loved her, the way she loved me, the way we were together, and the way we parted were the only things that mattered. Now she's gone, and I am alone, and the rain is the only thing left, the only thing I can hear.
I wonder why the rain is so loud, and the ground is so quiet. I wonder what kind of person she would have been, and if she would have ever looked at me the same way she used to [after that night]. I wonder what could have happened between us if I had just been there. I wonder what would happen if I just let the noise of it all consume me. My mind reels, again and again I find myself thinking of what could have been and the unbearable noise of it all. The rain is deafening, but I can't cover my ears.
Sometimes I wish I were dead. Maybe then the rain wouldn't be so loud. But the wind wouldn't have her scent on its breath, and I wouldn't be able to see her face as clearly as I do now.
If I were dead, then maybe someone close to me would find themselves lost in the same noise as me. I'd rather it be just me who's suffering, than tons of other people in my life. The thought of my family and friends suffering because of me is too much for me to handle. So I'm going to keep living, even if it's just to spite the rain.
But the rain is so loud, and the ground is so silent. I want the rain to stop. I want the reeling to stop. I want it all to stop.
The rain stops, and it's quiet again. The breeze is silent too, even the birds have gone quiet. Without all the numbing noise, I can feel the hole in my chest. I can't see anything with my eyes closed, but I can feel the tears stinging my eyes. The silence is suffocating, and the lack of her presence is unbearable. I feel the ground shift beneath me and realize that I'm falling. I fall to the ground, my back sinking into the mud, my body limp and cold.
I'm drowning.
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