The Rain Against the Fire Escape

Dear Delyara, A heavy, unyielding downpour started about an hour ago, and now the sound of water metallicly rushing down the rusty pipes of the fire escape is the only thing filling my small room. It’s 2:20 AM. I’m sitting on the edge of the mattress with my old winter coat pulled over my shoulders because the draft from the window is unforgiving tonight. There is an incredible comfort in a storm when you feel ruined inside; it feels like the weather is finally matching the landscape of your internal world. For months, I’ve been walking around under clear blue skies feeling like I was suffocating, forcing a smile while my personal life was quietly disintegrating into dust. Tonight, looking out at the blurred streetlights through the rain-streaked glass, I don't feel the need to hide. The rain is washing away the pretense, leaving nothing but the cold, hard truth that I am broken, and that it's going to take a very long time to rebuild.