Blog

She must have cried herself to sleep.  She woke up to the steady pounding of rain on her roof.  She wanted to roll over and go back to sleep.  But something prevented her.  

The knowledge that he might still be standing beneath her window.  And the curiosity that began to burn within her.  Would he brave the rain for her?  

Following closely on the heels of that question were others.  Were his teeth chattering?  Was he putting himself in harm’s way as he waited to speak with her?  Was he making himself sick right now?  Could she live with her conscience if he died in the rain?  Or from pneumonia brought on by the cold?

And if he did, then what was the use of their separation now?  She was protecting him from nothing if he chose his own death because of her.  She cringed.  She should never have spoken with him that first day.  She should have turned and walked away.

But how could she have?  Even then, his bright eyes had been smiling at her.  Beckoning her to draw near and let him whisper something sweet into her ear.  She’d been powerless to refuse such a darling request.  Besides, she’d had to see those eyes up close.  She’d needed to taste those lips.  Even now, she ached for their embrace.

She glanced at the clock.  Eleven twenty-eight.  Surely, he’d gone home an hour ago.  Or when the rain had begun to fall.  She convinced herself that he had finally abandoned her, and she fell asleep again.  But something woke her at midnight.  Then, she realized what it was.

It was the winds.  They’d increased.  She could hear them blowing.  The rain was coming down in mighty sheets now.  It was slapping the roof over her head.

Suddenly, she knew.  She just knew he was still there.  That he’d been standing alone in the rain this whole time gazing up at her window.  Longing for her.  As she was yearning for him.  She jumped from the comfort of her bed and crossed to the window.  She opened the shade and glanced down.

He was still there!  He was soaking wet.  He was being pelted by wave after wave of harsh wind coupled with sheet after sheet of rainfall.  He was going to kill himself if he kept this up.  

But she knew him.  He would keep this up.  He would stay out there until he got a response from her.  Come tomorrow, he would still be there if she didn’t intervene.

She crossed the room to find her umbrella.  It wasn’t in its usual spot.  Frustrated, she began to dig through a pile of her belongings.  She tossed meaningless objects to the side.  She needed only her umbrella.

Come on, come on!  The man could die while I look for you, you frustrating umbrella!

She heaved a sigh of relief a moment later as she unearthed it from the bottom of that pile of junk.  She left the mess in her closet.  She ran for the front door of her apartment, and then she hurried down the stairs and opened the door to the outside world.