Rain always reminds me of a moment from five or so years ago.
I’m in my second or third year of college. It’s raining really hard. I’m wearing flip-flops, as per usual, and I don’t have an umbrella. I’m also parked in visitor parking because I’m a commuter and can’t always afford the luxuries in life – like a parking pass. So, I’m in visitor parking, down an incline, the furthest spot on the campus from any classroom.
I step out into the rain from the cover of the parking garage and immediately get splashed by a car that is passing by – probably by someone who can afford life luxuries like parking passes. I think to myself – this moment is a metaphor for something I can’t quite connect yet – it will come to me later. This moment also sets the tone for the rest of my day.
But it doesn’t – because there he is, like a night in shining armor.
He’s actually not much older than me, a student, in a beat up old truck – asking a rain soaked girl if she wants a ride to class. Before I can answer, he assures me that he’s not a psycho or a total weirdo. At this point, I don’t care what he is, I’m getting in the car.
I’m in the car and I’m wet, but I’m warm.
I’m warm and making small talk with a stranger.
I’m going to be on time to class.
Wet, but on time.
I can’t remember details about his truck, just that it was beat up, noisy, and old.
I can’t remember his face or his voice or what we even said in the short distance between us in the front of his truck.
But I can remember feeling warm, inside and out, due to this act of kindness by a stranger whose name I never found out.
This is the moment I always think of when it’s raining.
I imagine him somewhere as some girl’s prince charming. Rescuing a cat from a tree, tending to a baby bird with an injured wing, helping a blind man cross the street, giving a stranger a ride in the rain, feeding the homeless, kissing a paper-cut before placing a band-aid over it, changing someone’s tire on the side of the highway, waiting up for you to get home – making people feel warm.
Today – I am standing under an awning in front of a department store watching a downpour. The entire sidewalk is wet except for a few millimeters in front of my black flats.
I guess I’ll wait for it to turn to a sprinkle or a drizzle before I make a break for my car.
But then I’m stepping into the rain and I’m soaked in seconds. I think to myself – this moment is a metaphor for something I can’t quite connect yet – it will come to me later. My flats are soaked through, so I stop to take them off, but I don’t run.
So, I’m just a rain soaked girl walking barefoot across a parking lot to my car.
I get into the car and I look into the rear-view mirror.
I am
gasping
smiling
laughing.
Rain is rolling down my eyelashes.
I am
living.
Rain reminds me of being alive.
–S.
The Messy Middle 🖤 