I walk out my front door into the cold, gray morning. Your scent still fills the air. I must get away from it. I must escape. I walk to nowhere. Just walk.
The first drop hits, then the second. I won't turn back. I can't. Move forward. The mist is glancing my cheeks like the small kisses you used to give me. I loved you lips.
I watch the drops hit. I lift up my hand and let them roll down my arm, like your gentle touch. They slide down my body like your fingers tracing my side. It tickles, I tremble. The drops roll down like beads of sweat. The sweat you used to kiss off my lips, my hands, my chest. Why did you stop?
I stop walking. It's too much. I can't do it. I can't let you go. I won't believe you're gone.
I look up to the sky with my eyes closed. I envision you coming down to me. I can see your face. I am here. I am waiting.
I open my eyes. I want to see you. The rain is too strong. I can't keep my eyes open. It hurts too much, but I want to see, I need to see. I want to breathe again.
I can't do this anymore. I have to let you go. I must.
The wind gusts pushing me back. I will endure.
The water runs down my face. Is it my tears. No it can't be. It must be the rain. I can not shed any more tears. I am done crying.
The rain is heavy, my heart even more so. I raise my arms to the sky inviting the storm in. Take me. Cleanse me. Do your worst. You will not break me.
The water pounds my chest. The thunder rolls ringing heavily in my ears. I will stand my ground. Give me your worst, this pain is nothing.
I scream, I yell, I cry. I can't see. The storm does not care. It pushes me down, beats me. I can't let you win. I am stronger than this. It is time to let you go. Don't go. Just go!
The rain begins to let up. Slowly, Slowly rolling to a stop. I slowly open my eyes. I am drenched but not beaten. I am cold but not defeated. I am.
I lift my arm in the air. The water slides off slowly. The pain is falling away one drop at a time. One last drop hangs on my fingertip. It is clean. It is pure. It doesn't matter. Let it go.
This is it. The last drop. The last tear. The end.
I need it to fall.
I must let it fall.