When it
rained I used to always
reflexively wonder if I've left something outside.
I never do anymore.
And when a thunderstorm is coming I look out the window and I'm all alone...and I tell myself I'm going to go outside and swim in the downpour of water, look straight upwards into the gray, thundering clouds and let it rain on my face and in my eyes like a cold shower, like letting my own tears fall from the sky.
But I can't because I'm wired into the things inside this house, I'm connected to the soft buzz of electronics and the hum of the refrigerator and the soft wood of the desk and the click of the keyboard. That rain was so beautiful, and I stayed inside and watched it, because...
Out there I'd probably freeze to death.