The Cloud at the Peak of the Moutnain

Crying Sky

3/2/95

It is Friday, February 2nd, 1995. The pouring rain acts as a background noise for my thoughts. Even though the storm is loud, it does not overcome my screaming mind. I am currently writing down a list. It could be any list, grocery shopping list, Christmas gift ideas, anything, but I crumble it and aggressively throw it behind my back. I look down at the empty desk, run my hands through my hair, and pull while I let a few tears fall. Life is stressful. No, it is not perfect at all, and I am sorry if you thought it was. From here it will only go downhill, at least for me it will. Crying does not help anymore, crying only makes me feel weaker nowadays. I stand up, wipe my sad tears, and head to bed. Every night is a rough night, every night is a gloomy night, like being tied to the bed in the middle of a nightmare that I wish to wake up from and can't. In this nightmare, it is raining, and this nightmare is sadly my reality. I tried closing my eyes hoping to fall asleep, counting sheep didn't seem to do the trick anymore. I started looking around my dark room, staring at the blank ceiling like it would tell me what to do with my life. It didn't. I looked over at my window and saw a flashing light followed by a loud thunder. I stood up and headed over. I placed my head on the glass and watched the scenery in front of my eyes. I always hated rain before, if it was a great day to go out and play, you couldn't anymore. All the fun places would close, and the sun would hideaway. But this time was different. The water droplets falling from the night sky were my only companion. Look at them sliding down my window. They start full, and as they go down, they disappear. The sound, so relaxing and silent, yet so powerful. When did rain become so relatable to me? My night ended with me staring out the window into the movie nature played for me. I will never forget that in my loneliest night, I had the sky's tears, to match mine.