[ WP ] `` It 's just the rain ''

I loved him. You know how they say you could n't get married to the same person for year?. Well they were right. He changed. He changed a lot. But I learned to love the new him every single day. 
 
 I was his. From every single strand of hair to my bones. His. 
 
 Now there's never going to be another poem about me. You know, that's the thing about poets. They live in a different world than us. Even a speck of dust in the air is beauty. Even that can be wrote about across ten verses of sad, soft words. And so is the case with pain. I know how he was. He would suffocate himself with sorrow, appreciating its madness. 
 
 I could n't comprehend his mind. His words were like a kaleidoscope. I could n't understand what he saw in me. I could n't understand what he felt when he hugged me or when he ran his fingers through my hair. I guess I'll have to wait until the end. He taught me this. Stories have graphs. 
 
 He also taught me when you write you can end it prematurely. It's a creative thing to do. 
 
 But I do n't like cleverly written books. I like books with cliche, happy endings. I like it when the hero came back. When his love looks through the window and there he was, standing. Smiling. Carrying summer in his eyes. 
 
 Now that I looked back, my life was like a cheesy two dollar novel. Was it my story though? No. My story ends with the main character founding another guy. His is an ever unfolding romantic saga. The great burly man waiting for his darling everyday, eating together, learning the sound of silence. And it ends sadly. He'd like that. The ending is that the guy dies while his other half waits. He'd like that. Pain is poetic, he'd say that. 
 
 A single drop of water made me look up the sky. It is a gloomy grey. And suddenly it pours heavily and my vision turned really hazy. Am I crying? Am I sad? It's just the rain. It's been raining a lot lately.. Yet there was never a rainbow.
