Questions In The Rain
by Byron Frank

I stood there, eyes wide open, staring into the darkness, the rain coming down in sheets. Soaked to the bone. My hair clinging to my face like it needs my body heat to survive. I have a throbbing headache on the left side of my head. It came along quite suddenly accompanied by a sore shoulder and neck. I can't tell you which came first, the muscle soreness or the headache. None the less, my head is whirling.

Many things come to my mind. There is no reason at all to be feeling this way or to be thinking these thoughts. I go from thinking about my present state, to my friends, to my future. All in a matter of seconds.

"Maybe I am dehydrated?" I ask myself, thinking that could be the cause of my headache.

The wind is rapping the rain hard against my body. I think of how beautiful I must look. Beautiful but freezing!
I am clothed in what you might see someone wear in a 1940's Mystery/Romance film (You know the kind, the detective who needs money or he will go out of business, and the woman who is nothing but trouble. "Film Noir" stuff!), an over-dramatic trench coat that is doing nothing to block the rain. The twist is, I am wearing a neon-green turtle-neck, not so 1930's, as well as matching knee-high socks. But the white scarf, long black skirt and high leather boots fit right in. That's right! I am the woman that's nothing but trouble!

"Why is it so dark up ahead? Why does this darkness prevent me from moving?"

I guess we fear darkness because it is the unknown. I don't know what is ahead of me so I don't move. Life is often that way. I don't know what lies in my future so I fear to go where I don't see positive results.

It is kinda like how people get when someone really close to them passes away. They weep because the future is darker without their loved one there beside them in their journey ahead. No more hugs, no more long talks or reassuring words. I guess we all go through that sooner or later. We try to hold on to people. We hold them as close as we can, but no matter how hard we squeeze, no matter how sweet the embrace, we cannot hold them forever.

For some reason I always think of the sun when it's raining. Maybe there is a little bit of sun in my personality. Maybe it's because I feel the same feeling when the sun shines on my head as when the rain falls on me: the heavens are coming down and for a moment I am part of the sky! I think I like rain more, though. I love how it stays in my hair. It almost feels as if the juice of the sun is caught in my hair, or the tears of the sun. I always have thought of rain as tears. At times I just sit by my window and watch the rain come down and cry. I love having tears in my hair, it's like I am part of a sad story.

The rain continues, my light autumn hair turns to a light shade of brown.

Out of the darkness I see a figure emerge, dark and hunched over. Not accepting the rain like I do, but trying to block it out. That makes me sad. So my tears mix with the rain.

He is wearing a dark rain coat and a black dress hat. I cannot see his face. As he approaches, I look for his features. He has none! Just a dark black sphere where his face should be. Kinda like a hole in a tree, like we saw in the cartoons when we were kids. I gasp! It's as if an owl would fly out at any second. But I stare, perplexed at the wonder I feel. He walks past looking at me with his black face. He leaves like so many cold faceless men before him. The wind grows cold with their memory. Men! , Faceless! . Not really faceless but in a way emotionless. Like cold machines!

I never found Mr. Right no matter how I have tried. I have loved or would like to think I have. I am not sure if I know how to love. I guess I have a ways to go in that department. I have loved men before or rather a man. I have had feeling for others but I would not call it love. I only had that once, but it was a love unrequited. I am not sure what effect that has had on me. I guess I have learned from it . . . I guess. I still have hope. I sometimes feel really beaten! Am I not good enough, I wonder. Not pretty enough?

The rain stings now. Tears stream down my face. Ouch . . . The rain is hurting! Yeah . . . The rain is what hurts. I realize how foolish I have been. With every failure, I try to fix me. Maybe I can disassemble myself. I hate my body; I feel like I am fat all the time. My legs are trees, my stomach is never flat enough. I try to see beauty in my body, but I don't feel fit enough and it seems like I cannot get the right look. I have an awkward body and no matter how I work out or eat healthy or not eat at all I will never look good. I guess it's that I do not feel good enough. Why else have I failed so many times? I do not demand perfection from others so why do I demand it from myself? It's just that everything around me reminds me of how unworthy I am of another's affections.

I guess I know my thinking is wrong but it does not stop me from thinking this way.

I take a deep breath, the wind subsides. I can half tell myself it doesn't matter. But I can only manage to half convince my self . . . but it's enough. I have some beauty in me. "But Oh how I loved him." The feeling arises in me again, every time I think this way.

I shut my eyes, the rain has all but stopped by now. But a rain drop still falls from my eye. "Smile!" I tell myself. I open my eyes. I do smile!

I see the sun come from behind the clouds. I have not moved from this spot that I have stood at throughout the rain, umbrella in my hand. My headache is subsiding. The pit of my stomach is churning and I feel only a little light-headed.

I want to be loved. We all want to be loved. But I guess when I am loved I will not take it for granted.
I take a deep breath and hold it in.

I take a step forward. The sun is shining on my head. I feel the warm reassuring heat. I bite my lip and I think to myself: "I changed my mind. My favorite feeling is my hair being dried by the warm sun, taking away all the tears of the sky . . . but taking them away ever so slowly."