RainA Story by kristolliniBarry hated the rain. Maybe.It was dark outside. For 10 in the morning, anyway, thought Barry, as he lifted his recycled paper cup full of caffeine and took a mild-mannered sip of his coffee. His right side was a little chilly from the cold seeping through the large glass window he sat next to, and he absently rubbed a hand over his upper arm. He had originally been somewhat excited to start his day at his favorite cafe, but the sudden onslaught of cold, winter rain had put somewhat of a damper - he chuckled humorlessly at the pun - on his mood. Barry hated the rain. It reminded him of physical hurts, of when he would slip and slide on slick sidewalks as he rushed back home from school as a child. It reminded him of ruined plans, of when he would get revved up to hang out at the beach with friends, only to have the weather forecast force him to stay inside. Most of all, it reminded him of his failed relationships, all of which somehow involved rain at the breakup point - Gloria had dumped his teenaged self via text as he waited for her outside in the pouring rain, Lana from his workplace had firmly and adamantly turned quite literally from his romantic advances, causing him to trip into a muddy puddle as he attempted to reach out to her, and his most recent and longest-lasting relationship with May had ended when she told him she couldn’t do this anymore (meaning their relationship)…while they were watching Singin’ in the Rain. That last one still made him chuckle a little at the sheer irony of it. The saddest part of all, he figured, was that of all his relationships, he thought that May might the one who stuck it out with him until the very end. He didn’t ever go so far as to say he loved her, but if he was being honest with himself, he did. He never got the chance to tell her, but if he had, he wondered if she would have stayed. Barry huffed out a breath and looked down at the coffee cup in his hands, its contents long since gone cold. His hands remained clutched around the cup as if through his inner musings, he had tried to draw some semblance of warmth into the coldness of his memories. He released his grip and flattened his hands against the wooden surface of the table as he leaned back in his chair, tilting his head up to listen to the sound of the rain beat against the sorrows of his mind. The repeated barrage of pelting rain outside suddenly skipped a measure in its rhythm with the tinkling bell of the café door opening and closing. Barry turned his head towards the sound in slight curiosity and did a double take as he recognized the drenched but smiling woman at the door as his ex, May. He felt his imagination soar as his mind quickly fantasized about the pair meeting eyes, reconciling, and then dating for a time until he proposed and they married and lived happily ever after. He shook his head slightly, grimacing at his own fluffy thoughts, not noticing the man who came through the door after her. Barry looked back at May just in time to see the man tuck a damp strand of hair out of her face as she muttered something, to which the man let out a short bark of laughter before kissing her cheek lightly and fondly saying, “I love you.” It was apparent in the ease in which he said it that that was not the first time the man had uttered that particular phrase to her, but despite that, May’s face still lit up at his words, even while she, embarrassed, ushered her partner farther into the café. Barry watched as his ex-lover radiated happiness next to her new lover. Though he thought the sight would make him upset, for some reason, he realized that instead, he actually felt all right. She had found someone who made her happy and who wasn’t afraid to say the words that Barry could never say. He did not feel bitter, like his dark roast coffee, nor did he feel worn, like the luster of his table. He felt … fine. He felt okay. He felt like maybe the rain in his life would eventually lead him to happiness the way his and May’s storm of a relationship had led her to her happiness. Now that, Barry, is disgustingly optimistic and romantic, he inwardly chastised himself, pushing the imagery from his head and returning to his previous position of leaning back in his chair. Fat droplets of rain continued to plop against the window beside him, but Barry found that he somehow didn’t mind the sound as much anymore. © 2016 kristolliniAuthor's Note
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Added on January 14, 2016Last Updated on January 14, 2016 Tags: rain, short story, short, prompt, contemplate, contemplative, romance, love, thoughts, oneshot, one shot AuthorkristolliniTXAboutI got back into writing recently after quite a long hiatus and wanted to find a community of writers with which to share my rekindled passion! I'll be posting some old and some new pieces of writing h.. more..Writing
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