I met you in the rain on a weekend long ago. The warm droplets clouded my eyes as I gazed into yours. The water hit your hair like bits of silver. You were looking down. A faint pink light illuminated your face like an unforeseen kiss.

I met you in the rain on a weekend long ago. There was music that day and you sang along with it. I marveled at your voice, so tender and loving. It sounded like warm protective arms wrapped around me. I couldn’t resist listening when it made me feel how it did.

I met you in the rain on a weekend long ago. The rain was falling particularly hard that day. It came from all sides and tried to blind me. You unexpectedly reached for my hand and held it like it would be the last time. You smiled and touched my face. I leaned into you and we felt the rain together.

I met you in the rain on a weekend long ago. After a while of sheltering each other form the onslaught of this storm, it started to let up. The rain turned to mist. The clouds turned white. The lightning was staid. And after a while, the Earth began to sing that same song you were singing. The song was a promise, a premonition, a prophecy.

I met you in the rain on a weekend long ago...