That rainy night, inevitably, we made love.
After the making, I ran, never to come back.
I was standing on the edge of the gorge. It was as if the earth split itself in half.
I was standing on one side of the world and there was a forest on the other side.
I liked being out in the open when it was raining; I would almost dare say it was the only time I let myself be out in the open, almost.
I was looking deep into the forest. Maybe I could jump the distance between the two halves of the world.
Maybe the rainwater would fill the gap all the way to the top before I found the courage to do it.
For now I settled for looking and listening.
Although I knew I could not feel it, I still reached out my hand in the direction of the forest.
I watched my fingers, reaching for the other side, for a while, then I closed his eyes and listened to the rain as it drummed against the soaking wet leaves. Playing a foreign song with the wind which hummed to the rain's rhythm.
I reached his hand out further, forgetting I was standing on the edge of a tear in the world.
I reached out to satisfy my needs and touch the leaves, as if that were possible. For that short moment I wanted to pretend that it was.
I wanted to pretend that he wasn't falling, like an angel, into the ravine.
I reached his hand up nonetheless, still trying to reach the leaves that were now so far away I thought they went to heaven while I fell straight to hell.
