I hear it raining outside. I genuinely smile and hurry up getting ready for work. The only time I enjoy the long distance between home and work is when it rains. I start driving with a lifted spirit. Light jazz songs play at the background. My coffee aroma fills the car. I remember my words to you: “Take me to a jazz night one day.” I push the memory away but then you come and become more real than the rain hitting the windshield. What you’d think of me seeing me almost jumping with happiness like that when it rains? Would you understand the child inside who is always longing for rains? Would you gaily run with me with no worries in our hearts?
I take a few pictures and stand on the verge of sending them to you. I stop. I cannot do that anymore. The pics remain dead in my phone.
Your voice, your teasing me, your laughter, your light lisp.
I wish you were here. Everything would have tasted different; my coffee, the rains, and the cold.
Buble sings in the back ground and I sing along:
A tinkling piano in the next apartment
Those stumbling words that told you what my heart meant
A fairgrounds’ painted swing
These foolish things remind me of you
I know that this was to be
These things have haunted me
For you, my dear, enchanted me
Wish you were here, sweetheart…