I received a text from Deborah tonight. She wrote, “Hi. It’s raining.”- just like that.

I wish it mattered like it mattered before. Back then the sound of rain was a sign, a promise, something I desperately held on to. I remember sitting in my apartment, the one we were renting for just that summer. Everything was temporary- we were subletting from these other girls and none of the furniture were ours. It was 3am in the morning and I was the only one awake in the house… again. I sat in the living room, in the corner where two couches met and pulled my knees up to give my journal a place to rest. All the lights were off and the whole living room would have been pitch black if it wasn’t for the streak of moonlight shining down through the sliding glass doors. I remember sitting there, right where the light hit, sitting and resting, sitting and thinking. I had so much on my mind those days and being around people only made things a bit more intense. I loved late nights where I could be alone- this was my escape, just me and God. But there, even there, I felt trapped and suffocated. Everything was so abstract and my feeble attempt to make sense of everything that just..didn’t, wore me out. I needed something. so desperately.

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