Love Letters I Never Sent

Letter #5: Thunderstorms

The downpour felt especially heavy tonight.

Despite the warmth present within the walls of the house, I felt the bitter coldness of the angry wind coming from the small gaps in the closed windows. As I listened to the pitter-patter of raindrops shooting toward their inevitable destinations, my heart followed their unsynchronized rhythm. I knew this unsettling feeling that I could describe as both familiar and foreign at the same time. After all, it had been so long. Or perhaps, it had been that long because I was unwilling to sit with it as I knew it would ultimately lead to streams of guilt and grief.

The resounding claps of thunder snapped me out of my thoughts all of a sudden. However, the resurfacing suppressed emotions remained unfazed. I could have done something about it. I could have gotten myself a bottle of wine instead and convinced myself that I was fine and that I should get out of my head. That was what I always told myself every time I felt that lump in my throat whenever the unwanted phantoms would make themselves known to me.

But I remained seated, eyes closed, with the said lump present in my throat.

In my reveries, I allowed myself to finally see his rain-drenched figure. Above him, the lightning streaks were electrifying. It was perfect timing when I heard his distant childlike laughter booming together with the thunder. He danced gleefully through the thunderstorm with the pitter-patter as his background music. Somehow, he was peace within the chaos.

I wish I realized it sooner.

My hands reached out for him but it only went through. He was a phantom after all. His image was just a stored memory of mine, a moment I wish I had the chance to still exist in. The lump in my throat found its way to my closed eyes, then it poured to my cheeks. My eyes remained shut, not wanting his dancing figure to fade yet. This would be the only time I could see him with me. The one he used to sing love songs with. The one he used to play the guitar for. The one he dedicated all his poems. The one he opened his heart for.

His heart that I broke into small shards of glass.

I sighed. He truly never deserved that. I broke his heart because I branded myself as a devastating thunderstorm and I feared damaging him. I should have listened to him when he told me even if I was a storm, he would dance with me through it. Now, I faced my storms alone. I saw him dancing in the sunshine with another girl as vibrant as the sun.

I opened my eyes when the image appeared of the dissipating storm turned to a blue sky with him and her dancing to the melody of the birds. My reveries immediately faded. I wiped the bitter streams on my cheeks as the cold enveloped me, sending shivers to my entire being. I needed a bottle of wine so I stood up and headed for the kitchen. I hoped that the wine would be enough to drown the rain-drenched guy and his sunshine lover down to the depths of my mind and soul.

The downpour truly felt especially heavy tonight.