Pluviophile

I

it was the fact that by the time i was 21, i was sitting alone in my apartment looking through every piece of evidence i had of knowing you to find where we went wrong.

i always wanted to know where my future would take me. i wanted to know who was in my future, what i was doing in my future, and mostly, if you were in it.

i've seen so many types of love in my life, but we were different. i knew we'd be different from the very start.
i think i knew because i didn't care about how much you loved me, it was just the factor of being able to be in your life. it was having the privilege of loving you.

you were never the type to cry. you found it overpowering. you once said it made you feel like less of a man, but i knew you were strong enough.

you'd tell me i didn't deserve the pain. you were patient and understanding and i had never been so grateful for anyone before you.

i was one of those people who remembered everything, but the one day i remembered the most meant the most.
i could recite the entire day we met ten times backwards before i could stop loving you.

i met you on one of the worst days of my life.

MARCH 17, 2022
DAY 1 OF SPRING BREAK

i came into my house drenched, after walking four miles in the rain. you stood five feet from the front door when i walked in, as if you were waiting for me.

i didn't know who you were.

my mom had spent months before the day telling me, "there's a boy i want you to meet." but i never listened.

you looked at me like you'd known me for years.
"charlie?" i never told you my name in the fifteen seconds i stood at the foyer, but you knew it.

my front door was still wide open, i stood in it, and about five seconds after you said my name, red and blue lights started flashing at my house, sirens were going off, and you looked sorry.

"what's going on? who are you? why are you in my house-" i started stammering because i was unaware of what would happen next.

"i'm finn. your sister called my house phone wondering if my mom was there, she wasn't. it was just me. she told me i needed to be here when you got home because something had happened."

"just tell me what's going on!" i was worried, i was unaware, and i was afraid.
after i yelled, paramedics started flooding into my house, running up the stairs.

"wheres claire?" claire was my sister. it's always been me, claire, and my mom. i could feel my actions become rapid, my worries become more than they were, and my breathes hitch.

"she's awol. she packed her bag and left. she mentioned that she had a flight she couldn't miss. look, charlie-"

"just tell me what the hell is going on!"

the paramedics were good at their job. they knew what to do and how to do it. i knew because it only took thirty seconds for them to get my mother only a gurney.

they took it down the stairs and rolled it out the front door and i didn't know what to think. her skin was pale, her eyes were closed, and her wrists were as red as they'd ever been.

i took the breathe i needed to process what i had seen. i turned back to you and you automatically hugged me. you knew i needed it when i didn't even know.
your hand was on the back of my head as if you were holding me into the hug, you knew i needed a long hug. i did.

"is she dead?" i asked, talking into your chest. all you did was shush me. you understand my pain and i didn't know it, but it was there.

i never really understood why you cared so much about me on our first day, and you never really told me. the first day i asked you, months after we met, why you cared so much, you said to me, "more than 8 thousand people die in the US everyday. imagine how many people grieve each day."

you always brought statistics into questions you thought were too cheesy to answer seriously. i had always loved that about you.

when you finally let me out of that blessing of a hug, you looked me straight in the eyes and said to me, "you're going to feel like this dreadful feeling is never going to go away, but i promise you it will. nothing lasts forever."

i wanted to tell you that you were full of shit.
"my mother is my best friend. i believe in forever." i felt like such an asshole after i said that to you.

you looked at me like i was stupid, but what you said afterwards changed my mind. you always had that power. "i've tried to be one of those 8 thousand people multiple times, charlie. i'm in the best shape i've been in years. five years ago, someone had told me the feelings would go away and i thought they were full of shit. look at me now."

"i don't think you're full of shit." i did, at the time.
i'd known you for two minutes. i didn't even know your last name. you were opening up about your past life to make me feel better, after paramedics rolled my mother past me while her wrists bled out.

"seeing your mother like that is going to keep you up for weeks. you're gunna want to blame yourself, you're gunna be angry, upset. you're gunna wanna hide."

i had already started feeling angry with myself the second you hugged me. i wanted to tell you that you knew nothing, but it wouldn't have been true.

"you choose what to do. you get to make the decision on how to handle your emotions and actions."

you were wise, understanding, and comforting.
you took over my mind the second you walked out of my door that day.

1036 wc
july 10th, 2022