<center>The rain.
It's not like anything else.
You know.
Cold.
Wet.
Unenviting.
To most.
Maybe.
But to me.
It's where I always want to be.
Cold.
Wet.
So increadibly inviting.
I stood for hours.
Out.
Cold.
Wet.
For hours.
My mom got mad at me.
I didn't mind.
Because I was home.
The rain.
It brings a certain.
Sense.
Of memories.
Lost.
Forgotten.
But not when it rains.
When it rains.
All.
Is.
Fine.</center>
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