Caught In The Rain

I was standing in the porch while it was pouring rain and sleet just a few feet away from me. There was that part of me inside again. The one that yearns to breathe free, you know? Another side, another story to my being. A part of the puzzle, a part of the riddle. Maybe even the answer to the riddle.

I was wondering if I should run into the rain. I mean, I was making pancakes inside while watching Titanic when I heard the downpour unleashed on the roof. So that other side wished to go run around in the rain. If just for a little while. Each rain storm is unique, and this one was special. I would only get to run around and catch that sleet and rain once in a lifetime. I took a step forward, my bare feet ice cold. Some rain sprayed on my pants.

I decided that maybe it wasn't worth it. I'd just be getting myself wet and messy. It was too risky and too complicated. I'd be much safer in my own world watching Titanic. And making myself pancakes. Yet that other side was warring with me. I turned my back on the rain and began to turn the doorknob to go into the house.

In a last desperate attempt the other side cries out. Life!

I stop.

Life.

I turn around and dash as fast as I can off the porch, soaring over the wooden steps as I go. I land with my feet jolted into the ground. They remain stationary for one second as I take off in a mad sprint around the grass.

Life...Life is...

I run back onto the porch. There's no more rain running into me. I heave at a loss for breath, humming to myself. With a start I realize that I'm not satisfied.

Life is...

I fly back onto the playing field and begin chasing nothingness again.

Only...

I'm a wildman. A barbarian, a caveman. You know? I don't know how fast I'm running. Have I ever ran this fast before? My chest catches a million droplets of water with each twist and turn.

...As good as...

A fleck of microscopic snowball pelts me in the eye. I realize that it started hailing again. I run harder. I wonder if the whole neighborhood can hear my screaming laughter. I don't care.

...The memories...

I turn my head to the sky and my glasses have thousands of little mirrors all over it. As my legs are running forward I start spinning. I have no idea if I've broken a bone yet. I don't care. I spin harder and harder and harder and harder and harder.

...Life is only as good...

I went back inside, completely out of breath.

As I saw my dad walk by, he gave me a strange look. Then after a minute of friendly conversation he got hostile about something...I could hardly care or pay attention. I almost told him that he needed a good run outside to get fun back in his system.

Then I walked back to my living room to watch Rose and Jack hit it off. I started singing again.

"Life is...only...as good as the memories we make..." I looked at my hands and suddenly felt a shudder. From all the shame. The shame of the desructive things I did with those hands. I sing softer. "And I'm taking back what belongs to me."