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The clouds have painted the sky completely grey, keeping any light from peeking out. Everything is still. A few stray droplets hit my face as I walk. It's refreshing. Calming.
Then, it starts pissing down.
It doesn't take long until my hair is sticking to my face. I shake it out, running my hands through the dark fringe and pushing it to the side.
The cold creeps up on me. Drops of rain are getting through to my bare skin under the hoodie and t-shirt I'm wearing.
If I had a soundtrack, it would be rain. All kinds of it. Heavy rain to drown bad thoughts or a light drizzle to send me to sleep. Rhythmical dripping against the window to slow a racing heartbeat.
My heart has been racing a lot lately. The thoughts in my head have had me wishing for heavy rain more often. My morning runs turned into nightly walks only a few months post op. Walking the streets at night somehow seemed to soothe me.
I'm on my way home. Could I even call it a home? An empty little apartment with space for a bed and my two guitars. Nothing on the walls. No pictures. Nothing that was mine. What's the point of making yourself at home if you know you're not gonna stay?
I stop, changing my direction with determined steps. I climb the fence that separates the field from the rest of the park, landing on two feet on the other side.
Passing through the field, I feel the stinging at the edges of my eyes. To some, this might just be a patch of grass. But to me, there is lots more to it.
This is the football field where I tried out for the team in fifth grade, only to get rejected half an hour later. They put me as goalie, not because I was good at it, but because I was the only one big enough to cover most of the goal.
I cried walking home that day. I guess it was partly because I got hit in the stomach with a ball. I guess this is just repeating history.
This is also the field where four twelve-year-olds put on their first performance. It was for the final day of school before summer. Yeah, I know. We were shit then, and the audience was a bunch of tired kids who wanted to leave so they could start their summer break. And proud family members, of course. But still. It was pretty big to me.
I start making my way down the rows. Balancing between the red and blue, I can't help but smile. The wind can push me over at any second. The water has made the seats slippery. It's a reckless game. But I don't care. Whatever happens here tonight won't be up to me.
Seems like an infinity passes before my feet touch the grass in the leap from the last row of empty chairs.
It's cold. And wet. Still, I throw myself onto the grass. Feels nice just to lie down for a moment. I haven't gotten much sleep lately. My head has been spinning non stop.
