Rain in September.

I don't know how you are so familiar to me—or why it is feels less like I am getting to know you more as though I am remembering who you are. how every smile, every whisper brings me closer to the impossible conclusion is that I have known you before, I have loved you before—in another time, a different place—some other existence.

You know what? the most beautiful sound in the world to me it's not forest birdsong or babbling brooks or even the ringing of church bells. it's hearing you whisper, 'I Love You', over and over again.

I think somewhere, in a parallel world, we made love in the garden of wilded flowers. our trembling hands reaching out toward the sky, trying to grasp the last watery rays of a dying sun—two hearts colliding and shattering into a million tiny stars.

September rain, that day. when you came to me and said you loved me. When you say that I am your soulmate. we hug each other, then hold each other's hand, deliver and exchange warmth. it feels very comfortable. when I decided to make you my home. and when you whisper to me and say 'I love you, today, tomorrow and forever'. That day, when you promise that you won't ever leave me.

It doesn't stop there, you're lying. because the truth is, you're gone. I hate it when betrayal is on my side. I know losing someone is very painful. or perhaps you began losing pieces of them until one day, there was nothing left. you may have known them all your life or you may have barely known them at all. what you are feeling is not only completely valid but necessary—because it make you so much more human. and though I can't promise it will get better anytime soon. I can tell you that it will—eventually. For now, all you can do is take your time. Take all the time you need.

Here I am, under the rain in the next November. without you by my side, trying to turn back time in my mind. trying to fix everything, My chest sobbed, I screamed as loud as I could to say your name. but it's useless. i lost you, i'm sorry.