I Remember the Rain

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short story I wrote that explores loss of true love and the darkest portion of sadness and loss most of us want to forget.

Submitted: November 01, 2016

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Submitted: November 01, 2016

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It’s funny the things you remember. I remember the rain. Thousands of tiny razors falling upon my skin. My wife died in a car crash. A hit and run to be exact. That was the day the rain was forever engraved in my mind.

I arrived at the scene shortly after the call. All I saw was a mangled up car and couldn’t believe it. She was coming back from the grocery store. The last thing she said to me was “I’ll be back soon.” I wished it was I who was in the car. Every day I blamed myself for her death. Every day I woke up miserable and tired due to being unable to sleep the previous night and all the others. Every day it rained nonstop. Every day I sat inside in the dark wishing for it all to end. The rain. The pain. The guilt. It all was too much to handle.

The worst memory of it all wasn’t the crash. It was waiting in the hospital waiting, waiting for someone to come out and say she was ok, that she would be fine. However much I wished for that deep down I knew that wouldn’t happen.

I remember arriving at the funeral, in the rain. I was the last one there. The pews were filled with friends and family, and those whom I did not recognize. As I approached her coffin I laid a rose upon it. I looked in to see her dolled up lifeless face. As I approached the podium, with tears in my eyes, I thought about how to sum up someone's life in just one day. I talked about how caring she was of others and how selfless she was. But as I talked I didn’t feel like I was talking to our families or friends, but to her instead.

It’s funny the things you remember. I remember the rain, Thousands of tears falling upon my skin. All weeping for her. All weeping for an Angel’s death. But what if it was me in the car crash and her standing here. Would the feeling be the same? Or would she have moved on? With every waking moment, and every raindrop falling upon my skin I wondered why she was taken from me, and why I couldn’t just end my life. I never knew why I couldn’t just end my life to be with her again. Maybe it was her influencing me to keep living and to carry on her memory. Maybe it was just because I was a coward.

I woke up every day only to the sound of the rain, and nothing else, and every night I fell asleep to the rain. It’s funny the way you remember things, forever engraved in your mind, I remember her touch; a soft touch of a truly caring person. Every day I longed to feel her touch. To feel her caress me and say “I love you my dearest.” To which I’d respond “I love you my moon and stars.”

It’s funny the way you process these things. The loss of someone close. You try to move on but everything reminds you of them. With nowhere and nobody to accept your love and feelings, you change. You become that which you fear most. You distance yourself, you lose your appetite. I have these pills; little blue pills, to help me sleep. I don’t like myself so I take seven of them when I drink. I wake up shaking from the nightmares wanting to forget. But I do it again hoping this time I won’t wake up.

I remember the rain. Millions of reasons to just end everything. A tangible thing that reminds me of her. And every day I question myself am I really alive? Can I actually be alive in this hell of sorrow and despair. If only I wasn’t so worthless.

It’s funny the things you remember. I remember the rain. Thousands of reasons to kill myself. Thousands of tiny hands pushing me closer to death. As each raindrop touches me I am pushed closer to that blade, closer to that bottle, closer and closer to joining death in my own special place in hell. As I sit here writing this all I can think of is you. Everything is for you, all of my heartache and loss of sleep is for you.

If you were still here, you’d tell me that everything will be fine. You’d tell me that you love me. But now you are gone. I’m left alone, an empty shell with nothing to live for. The only thing left in my mind, repeating endlessly, is your name. Lydia, the name of my angel. Forever engraved in my mind and my heart.

It’s funny the things you remember. I remember the rain. But is this rain real? Or is it just in my mind. I deserve displeasure, and I really want to cry. But I can’t... I can’t feel anymore. Now all I can see to do is let go. Let go of the thought of you. So I’ll try to forget all I can. I’ll forget all about you, just for my benefit. I always was selfish, always wanted my way, always wanted you to myself.

I remember the rain… The reason for my pain… I remember it all. I remember everything that made me happy being taken away from me in the matter of seconds. I remember going to the cemetery every day and leaving a rose. A rose, a simple metaphor for love. It’s amazing, the small things, how even such a trivial thing as a flower could represent something so large.

I remember her… I remember it all… I remember... The rain.

 


© Copyright 2017 Blake Reber. All rights reserved.

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