It rained last night,
and the drops of water slid off my windshield this morning.
It reminded me of you
and how easily I wish it was to forget you.
I wish you would slide off my mind and I wouldn't have to think about you any more.
But it feels like I'm driving through the rain with no windows on my car
and little drops of you are falling all over me
and keep hitting me in places I don't want to be touched.
Sometimes it pours on wounds you left, wounds that haven't seemed to have healed.
And it hurts.
Other times, you're sprinkled across my heart.
And that hurts too.
Whenever I drive through the cold memories you turn into snow flurries and sometimes you'll fall hard and other times you'll fall so delicately, so beautifully, that I can't help but to let you fall on my arm and let you stay for a while.
But when you stuck to my skin, and freeze the cells in my body and make it hard to drive, I lose feeling in my fingers and toes.
And the only way to get rid of that feeling is to drive through our warm memories.
The ones when I held you while you slept.
The ones when I stole more kisses than you thought you were wanting to give.
The ones when late at night, you would call me and walk me through your struggles with your demons.
That's when I can see you shining and I feel good, and warm.
But you're nothing more than precipitation scheduled on the forecast for this week.
You're nothing more than a rainy day on my heart,
on my mind.
Did I ever tell you how much I love rainy days?