Rain Drops and Love

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Rain drops pelted down against the window, and gale howled soon after. She had just awakened from a long sleep to a foggy, bleak afternoon. She didn't like feeling lonely in those instants. If only she could go back to sleep, impervious to the wailing of the sirens and the rustling of the trees. She thought about a boy, an ostensible friend of hers. She often thought about him during the day but chose to disregard what that could mean and thought of him merely as her friend.

Her friend had a childish grin, an inscrutable stare, and a penchant for sexual tension. She enjoyed speaking with him. They had discordant views on every topic but love and found themselves in their idealism. He loved summer, the stars, the sea. Frankly, she found his preferences trite and sometimes pondered the nature of their relationship, what it was that made her so inconveniently drawn to him.

She had met him on a warm June night. She knew who he was. He was pleasantly inebriated. When she had heard about him, she underestimated his charm. Now, he had a lover, so they became friends. They met several times that summer. She found his company reassuring, and she liked to believe that despite their differences, they fundamentally understood one another. Sometimes, she could almost sense the idea of them together oozing into his mind before slowly ebbing away, leaving only the subtleties of coy smiles and the exactitude of unequivocal words to take its place.

It was still raining heavily outside. Dusk washed away the last remnants of daylight, and a visceral melancholy flooded her chest. Maybe it was the sullen skies, or maybe she was in love.

Rain drops pelted down against the window, and gale howled soon after. She had just awakened from a long...

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... sometimes pondered the nature of their relationship, what it was that made her so inconveniently drawn to him.

She had met him on a warm June night. She knew who he was. He was pleasantly inebriated. When she had heard about him, she underestimated his charm. Now, he had a lover, so they became friends. They met several times that summer. She found his company reassuring, and she liked to believe that despite their differences, they fundamentally understood one another. Sometimes, she could almost sense the idea of them together oozing into his mind before slowly ebbing away, leaving only the subtleties of coy smiles and the exactitude of unequivocal words to take its place.

It was still raining heavily outside. Dusk washed away the last remnants of daylight, and a visceral melancholy flooded her chest. Maybe it was the sullen skies, or maybe she was in love.

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