From Out of The Rain, He Came.


What the?


And so I fumbled my way back to the waking world, reluctantly.

Had the day off yesterday, and had to work real, real early this morning.

Once or twice a  week I work an early truck – 5am. Hand bomb the load onto carts, sort them, put them in locations. Then I spend the rest of my shift walking back and forth handing them out. Climbing up and down ladders, replenishing stock, its a very physical day.

I mean, I need my sleep.

I had been so looking forward to the thunderstorm last night though for some reason. But I zonked out well before it swooped in. I L O V E them and I found myself all giddy at the prospect of a nice heavy rain.

Well, two and half hours later I am suddenly wrenched out of my slumber, wrapped in this pink short housecoat (covered in paint stains), liquid remains of sleep forming in my eyes, welling at the corners, I stumbled through the dark to the light.

I could still hear the remains of the storm in the distance, rumbling away somewhere.

At first, all I could see is this dark elongated figure in shadow at my hedgerow.

At first, it didn’t register who it was.

As he came slowly out of the shadows, those words from Sunday afternoon in the grocery store came back to me….“come over sometime”.

And so he had.

The big black umbrella he held aloft came down.

Frankly Mom, I knew almost as soon as I saw the shadow in the soft light that haloed his figure against the streetlights behind him, with his long hair that is now well past his shoulders. I knew who it was.

It was that, standing in the rain.


Come to visit after his baseball game I guess.

And the cat came back, ya thought he was a goner, but the cat came back.

Couldn’t show up any other day, eh? Not Monday, or perhaps Tuesday, Wednesday when I had the next day off? Not tonight even, when I go in late? Not tomorrow?

No, course not. He f’en shows up last night. When I had to be up in 4 bloody hours.


It was awkward.

We stumbled for something to say.

Been a long time? How has ya been?

It felt forced. I asked after his kids, he asked of my life over the last year.

Well. Alot, I thought to myself.

Instead, I gave him the coles notes version. Really only mustering a couple sloppy sketches of what this year has given me. Couldn’t get out the words. How to express the feeling of releasing yourself from the prison of one’s own making?

It felt like there was something in the air though we couldn’t say. Didn’t ask. Something always seems to remain unsaid with us. Or mis-said. Or texted when it should be said with his mouth, and not his damn thumbs.

Now, here we were, maybe we both had imagined this moment?

Well, I can say it didn’t go the way I had imagined.

All I could think of was how to get rid of him, and return to my soft, cozy bed. Alone.

His blood-shot eyes told me sleep was not on his mind.

I told him to give me a call, really to just get rid of him.

His reply, “I don’t have your number”. 

And then he asked, “do you have mine?”

I said no.

No, because otherwise I would have called him a million times, at least at one time. But not this time.

Neither of us made a move to share.

And then I launched my last volley: I am actually seeing someone, it’s casual, but…and said no more.

And he gave me a hug (hug 3, I believe), grabbed up his big black umbrella, and went out into the rain.

As he was leaving, he mumbled something as he turned away. I said “pardon me“?

I’m seeing someone too“. And he smiled his blood-shot eyes, standing now outside my doorway, in the rain.

Good“, was all I replied. And that was that.

I locked the door. I turned away. Removed the stained half robe, and I went back to my bed. Mumbled sweet nothings to myself, and fell back to sleep.

Woke up this morning, gave my head a shake, had my java and …well, that’s that, eh?

The one glaring thing that strikes me? Nothing changed with him. Nothing. Nada. Or not in any meaningful way. Did I think he had? I think maybe I did.

Sipping my coffee, wiping sleep from my eyes, and this quote happens by in my facebook feed, on the difference between like and love. If you like a flower, you pick it and take it home with you. But if you LOVE a flower, you water it, you check on it, and you take care of it.

So tonight I’m watching the skies longingly, I’m waiting for another storm. Skies look about right, but who knows. Something about them just makes me all giddy and tingly. I love to watch the sky flash, and the clouds duck in and out. It’s Friday the 13th tonight AND a full moon, so who knows what the night holds.

Hopefully nothing, ‘cept for the rumble and the rain out my windowpane.



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