Cathartic Rain

I awoke feeling incredibly repressed and bottled up.  My chest was tight, and I had the feeling that I needed to let go in order to take on the world, but I found every reason to not get out of bed.  I had to check my phone, or read some chapters in my book, or think about what I had to get done without actually doing it.  Then the sun began to fade, and through the skylight I could see an encroaching gray.  I had read that July is the rainiest month in Paris, but so far, I enjoyed over two weeks of sun.

I allowed my nights to blend into my days, and going to bed at four or five in the morning wasn’t a problem because I could just get up and start my day at noon, enjoy a cafe with my cousin or a friend, and then enjoy the occasional bar or a glass of wine at my apartment while writing in the stillness of the night.  Most people, then, would probably be disappointed to wake up and find the gray, and feel they lost their day.  However, it is as if the world felt the same urgent need to acquiesce.  There is a beauty in the act of letting go.  It is cathartic.  I feel like I am crying with the earth, but it a pure moment of clarity.  I feel cleansed by the rain.  I came to terms with the fact that somehow I have fallen for this place, or this time in my life, and I am terrified to have it end.

But for now, like the Earth and the rain, I am going to let go.  Today is the day I am going to explore Paris in the rain and see how the locals deal with weather.  I might even get on a bike here for the first time.  Playing in the rain makes me feel alive.  I’m like the birds in the trees singing through the rain.

I just had a de ja vu while proofreading this piece.  I know I’m in the right place.

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