Run in the Rain

I stumbled out the door breaking into a full sprint without a second glance as my bare feet hit the wet pavement.

My only thought was to run. To feel something understandable; with a reason; overriding the unbearable pain that had no cure. Masking the frustrating helplessness. It was all I could do.

I made a sharp turn around the cars and onto the sidewalk. A howling wind and a sheet of rain hit me in the face. It was so cold. I sighed in relief, breathing in the icy, clean air.

I flew passed parked cars and basketball hoops, grateful for the cement scraping against my toes with each stride. I hoped they would bleed.

I was forced to stop at the corner due to the passing vehicles. I waited impatiently as my breath came out in gasps.

Then I heard my name.

I ignored it.

The voice was one that I only heard in my head nowadays.

The road was now clear and I rushed forward across the gravel and tanbark to the sanctuary of the trees with the large leaves that never lacked shade.

I came to a sudden halt, my hands against one of the tree’s trunks. It was only there, sheltered from the rain, that I noticed the tears streaming down my face. The voice called me again, louder than it had been before. It was soothing against the numbness that throbbed through my body with each heartbeat.

Suddenly, there was a hand grabbing my arm. I instantly tried to pull away.

“Let go of me!” I said, my voice more powerful than I had expected it to be.

I heard my name repeatedly as I struggled. The person then wrapped their arm around my waist and turned me toward them, holding me against their body.

“What’s wrong?” they said with deep concern.

It was his voice; only it wasn’t in my head this time.

I looked up and found his face, better than I could have imagined, red from having ran after me, worry in his eyes. I touched his face with both of my hands to find it warm and soft. The tears came again, hindering my sight. I lowered my hands, slowly wrapping my arms around his neck burying my head into his shoulder.

“What is it?” he asked tenderly.

“Everything.” I whispered.

“Anything I can help with?” he replied stroking my hair.

“Please,” I moaned through my tears, “Please try.”