My Peace

Finding Peace

I run my hands through my hair, unsuccessfully holding back tears. I don't want to be sad anymore, so I decide to be angry instead. Wiping my face with my sleeves, I bubble up in rage, bursting out with a scream.

No one hears me and no one ever will. There was no point in keeping the silence.

With a grunt, I flip over my bookshelf flat onto the floor, landing with a loud thud. I throw the fly-away books across the room and at the walls. Another scream works its way up my throat and out of my mouth as I tear down paintings, smash flower pots and vases. Glass shards spray everywhere.

My room turns to into broken memories. The bed is covered with dust from the holes in the walls that I hadn't realized I'd put there. I stand within the midst of disaster, my heavy breathing the only noise breaking the awful silence.

I look around, not quite sure what to do next.

My gaze drops to the floor and my eyes fixate on a single busted fragment of a clay flower pot. I go to pick it up, and as I stand again, I feel a single, lonely tear escape one of my eyes.

I felt so alone, just staring at the shattered memories around me, when my eyes land on the broken window.

That's when I hear it.

The pitter-patting of the heavy rain outside.

An unknown emotion slowly overwhelms me as I approach the window, reaching my hand out toward the falling water. 

I feel a healing smile draw itself on my lips.

Opening what is left of my window, I crouch low to step outside. Once the droplets hit my entire body, I feel a sort of release in my tense and anxious brain. The more I walk through this gentle storm, the more sane I become.

That's when I realize that some people may actually feel peace after bawling their eyes out. Or maybe they find peace after destroying their possessions.

But me?

I find peace in the rain.