Rainy days.
The rain taps on the window and as it becomes more and more intense I feel the most relieved as if just the sound of it could wash off all that's wrong about me.
I love watching the drops scrolling down the glass and remembering when I used to play with my friends and fake they were doing a race.
Now, I like listening to rain alone, enjoying every moment of the storm; the sound of it to fill up the silence of the room.
I like petrichol, the smell of earth after a freshly ended squall.
I like everything about rain, because it represents me; hated by many and loved by few.
