I remember a distant memory of how the rain and I don't get along. I would sit there playing with my matchbox/hot wheels track rug. I didn't have much growing up in terms of kids to play with until k was in school. But everyday I would play in that rug at night and it was such an escape from reality, the current playing video games. I could immerse myself for hours coming up with different scenarios for each one of my cars, I had quite the collection. My imagination was the best thing I could have asked for growing up. It was all I had to get away from adults and to fill my time. I wasn't allowed to watch tv or play video games except on the weekends and even then like kids in the 90s I was told to hang outside until the street lights came on. I would always dread coming back inside. As a kid you should feel safe in your home.It would often rain as far back as I could remember. Inside I felt safe from the outside but inside was a different beast. I place I couldn't run from, I felt all alone with no one to protect me. I am at the mercy of the people I were surrounded by. I don't remember doing anything wrong yet always finding myself to be a product of my environment. Unsupervised I remember the days of growing up watching horror films at a young age. I vaguely remember how that affected me when I started going to school with more kids and being on the playground. I was always causing trouble at school, reenacting the scenes or words I've experienced in those movies. Always getting calls home and getting in trouble. I wish I knew any better but was never really told right from wrong, real or fake. I figured out most of life in my own, a very sheltered hermit of a child with little to know social skills. Even though most of these things were out of my control or understanding I was relentlessly punished. I could see the look in my mothers eye she never knew what to do with me, no one did. It was always an outside source chiming in and performing disciplinary action, that's what I thought it was, until I grew up. Cold showers and the rain. The       thought of rain  I've always loved the sound, but the taste and feel would always put me in discomfort. I would hold out my hand to catch the drops but they always worked against me. Each drop sending a painful memory to that which I've suppressed many years ago. On each cloudy and stormy night I pray each and every one of you have an umbrella.
To shield your eyes from having to see the sky weep. To protect you...but if you don't open your umbrella it would lie there idly at the mercy of distance and your reach, or the will to hide from which you were afraid.

I understand this may be a bit to process but rest assured I've grown stronger and smarter from these experiences
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On the death bed of the man who did this to me he called me. He wanted nothing more than to come to terms with his death and his past mistakes. Never to hold a grudge or seek revenge, all is forgiven.