sense and memory

rain. there are some things you can never forget. now let's take it back to january, a timid heart and open ended scene. five years. why is that so hard to grasp? small, fading flashes of light, water pouring down the windows, hands frozen at 10 and 2. terrified, persistent ringing, tires gliding. why does my heart stop every time it rains? walking back from dinner, smile on my face, phone in my hand. laughs and breaths mimicking the persistent fall, little beginnings and endings punctuating the space and air around me. the space between drops gets smaller and smaller, more condensed, and then the memory floods back, water passing under my feet. phone in hand, nervous. also waiting for a few words from a boy. this time i'm not in control, i'm not behind the wheel...i'm being shuttled ahead without any say and the buzzing of incoming news grows louder, more desperate with each minute that it doesn't come. then it does. the world keeps moving, but my mind does not. it is always the rain. the rain levels the field, eliminates the control, steals things that aren't meant to be taken. a life, one smile, another page in the story. i keep smiling for you. courtney. the way the rain permeates my skin, the same way it has sunk into us all. another laugh, another glance. increasing downpour, seeming to never diminish. courtney. at least the ghosts of the past linger here in the shadows, the sensations, all a part of the harmonious cycle of things that were, are, and will be.