It's In The Rain

Tonight it's raining out, and it's got me restless, wreckless. It's always done this to me...the rain. The tap, tap, taping against my window pane, the light howl of the wind, the way the lightening cuts across the sky. It's always seduced me. Even before I understood just what it meant...the way I reacted.

When I was younger it was great for drifting off into my own little fantasy world...opening my mind to daydreams, to stories. I loved curling up in bed, letting my imagination soar into whatever book I was reading...or whatever story I was creating in my head. The rain was a comfort, a friend. It opened me up to endless possibilities. I was just a little bit more bold when it rained. And when I'd finally drift off...it was the most relaxing sleep.

And as I got older I noticed...the rain gave me that itchy, twitchy feeling...a different kind of restlessness. I'd ache for something I wasn't quite sure I fully understood. Until Shawn. Don't get me wrong...I wasn't naive. I've never been naive where boys were concerned. If anything, I was all too aware. I noticed that my "gentleman callers" called a bit more frequently and kept me on the phone a bit longer when it rained. Where I was a natural flirt, when it rained I was downright uninhibited. I was open to whatever you wanted to talk about. And they loved it.

And yet it was Shawn that drew me out. I still remember...he'd moved away by then. I missed him. He got me on a level that no one else came close to. Then or now. So his moving away affected me. And I looked forward to those days when he'd come back to visit. They were few, but priceless moments to me. On that day I was coming home from work...it was misting out...and I was walking through the courtyard of our apartment complex to my apartment when I saw him. Standing in the mist...near my door...in his jeans and black trenchcoat. Looking at me. It had only been months since I'd last seen him. How was it possible he'd gotten so tall? He towered over me.

God, there was nothing that got to me quite the same way that quiet, shy smile did when it lit up his face. Knowing that I'd put that gleam in his emerald eyes. Knowing that look was all for me. That was powerful. And then he opened his arms to me...that's all it took. Pulling me into that welcoming hug...hearing the comfort of his heart beat, seeing that mischevious gleam in his eyes. I missed him. I knew he'd only be mine for a few hours...but I asked anyway.

So we went for a walk around town...the way we used to when he lived there. Hand in hand, his arm around me. He asked me if I was sure...it was starting to rain. I looked up at him and knew. I was sure. I wanted nothing more than to kiss this boy in the rain. So he took my hand. We walked. The mist built slowly into drops...cool against our skin. I still remember what I was wearing. A T-shirt and jeans and sneakers. As the strength of the downpour grew, the cooler it got. He pulled me into his side...sharing his trench with me. He felt me shiver, turned and pulled me flush against his chest...warming me with him, wrapping us up in his coat. The rain continued to drip down our faces, we just smiled...he kept me warm...and then he kissed me. There in the rain, he kissed me. And if my heart hadn't already belonged to him...I'd have lost it again. Right there. In that moment. Nothing ever felt sexier to me than kissing him in that cool Chicago spring rain.

Now as an adult, so many things have changed. I've lost touch with Shawn, but never with that memory. Thoughts of him still make me smile. And now, it never fails, rain entices me and seduces me. There's not much that's sexier to me than the rain. And it doesn't matter how much time has passed...for me, Shawn and rainy days are indellibly intertwined.