I've witnessed many thunderstorms. Heart-stopping, blood-chilling. But I haven't experienced any other quite like yours. No, yours sent my mind spinning and body tumbling. And when I tried to shuffle my feet in some sort of awkward waltz, you were hesitant to give consent.
I cracked you, however. Your thunder receded into a quiet thumping and your lightening faded to a glimmer. You finally let yourself go. And boy, did you pour.
I drank it all up.
I loved the innocence of pure rain. I loved the lack of fright. I loved that you released your dark opinions and finally became truly original.
Except, now the weather is almost always partly cloudy. I haven't seen grey in a long while. And no conclusion has reached my head. I think it could be best for both of us. But that little devil on my shoulder keeps doing a rain dance.
And he's really good at those.
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