Wet Soaked Love

You’re cruising down the road in your beat up old ’69 Mustang. The wind blows your hair every which way, and you laugh as the wild silky locks get right in your face. You’re free, joyous and so full of life. The smell of the sea stays with you. The ocean is long gone, you’ve gone too far. The scent lingers on your fingertips, on your lips.

Gravel crunches with every mile your angry rubber tires eat up. The road is empty; it’s just you and the handsome summer sky – taunting you, daring you to come and catch him.

So you smile wickedly, and shoot off towards the sun. He smiles and listens and charms you with his bright light and hot, hot promises. Just when you think you were one screeching kiss closer, he’d darken little by little until all that’s left of the chase and your loving disposition is a little fleck of illumination hiding behind clouds looking so forlorn you had to tighten your lips and close your eyes before the tears slipped out.

Still, you ride on. Wishing, hoping if you held on for just a little bit more, the heat of the passionate sun would wash over you again. Waiting, waiting for the light – the bane of your existence – to come back and grab you till you take leave of your senses again. But summer… he is gone.

The summer sky? He’s moved on to another sweet little place. One he’d devastate after luring her in and making sure that little world revolved around him and his blue eyes. Or maybe this time he’ll stay? Maybe for her, he won’t ever leave again?

The first drop falls. You feel it on your cheek. You reach up to wipe it away just to find the clouds have opened and you’re soaked right down to your soul.

But it’s okay, because the rain helps…

You stay silent for you’re alone. The road? It was an adventure; a celebration of your love and freedom. But now, as misery pours down and burns every shred of clarity, the road is just another thing to leave behind. Another thing you can’t leave your mark on. Something you’ll always long for but won’t ever get to keep.

But it’s okay, because the rain helps…

It is a poignant reminder of how quickly your life has been ruined, how easy your fragile heart has shattered. Perhaps dark clouds and endless nights are all you could trust in this world? In a twisted little way, the head of disappointment never lets you down. Welcome or uninvited, it barges into your life with all the grace and subtlety of a hurricane.

Heartbreak… It is as constant as change. Nothing is permanent. Nothing ever is.

And rain just keeps pouring down. The rain – with his cold, cold fingers and his pungent, earthy whiff. He soothes your wounds and eases your pain. The smell, so loving, makes you smile. It is him. It is new. It’s a start.

And you ask yourself how. How have you not appreciated the cold before?

Perhaps longing for sunshine always after the rain was a grave miscalculation. Maybe it’s the other way around.

Maybe the one good thing to come out of it is the truth that when light abandons you, the clouds and the rain – he’s right there. And he’s waiting, waiting…

You grin, the twinkle creeps back into your eyes. And him? The rain that has always longed for you to spare him a glance, a word, anything? He rewards you with a magnificent gust of wind and the sweet breeze of new beginnings.

And you ride on. Going, going, gone…




One thought on “Wet Soaked Love

  1. Pingback: Ain’t No Sunshine When She’s Gone | DIRTY ARI ♥

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