Prologue: The Day The Rains Came For Me
I had a feeling that it was going to rain soon. Oh how I wish to get caught up in it. I don't have an umbrella, and my coat doesn't have a hood. The desire to become drenched lingered, because I haven't gotten drenched in such a long time. I love the sound it makes when it hits every surface. The clings and clangs were a joy of mine. I secretly love it when my hair gets wet- or ruined. Especially when my bangs droop down into my eyes. I indulge in the sensation of when the water streams down my cheek.
It was cloudy and the hue was gray. I couldn't stand the humidity that plagued the city. The streets were as bleak as they could be. People walked by me like it was the saddest day of their lives. I couldn't blame them though, because if it was the saddest day- it would have to be today.
The sound of a piano could be heard streaming through my headphones. I always listened to music at maximum volume on my iPod. It didn't matter what song or genre it was, as long as it offered a slight distraction from reality. I tapped my knees with my fingers just like I was imitating a piano player. Although I don't know how to play any instrument- I liked to pretend.
There I sat, on a rough-looking city bench waiting for the bus to arrive. I don't know if I'm leaving on bad terms. I just know that I need to get away from this place and the people who reside here. I'm not stating that it's going to be for good, it'll only be for a while. Sometimes we need a break from the stress, and the drama that causes it. Well, let me put it this way- I've been needing to get away for a long time now.
It may seem like I'm just running away, but from my point of view, it's me yearning for peace of mind and soul for once. Each and every one of us deserves that, right? The best gift that one can give themselves is happiness, and a sense of feeling complete. I know that- because I did it once before, on my 19th birthday. I saved myself on that day, not because I wanted to, but because I had to.
I don't think I can handle another emotional break down. It feels like it's one thing after another, literally. As I argued with my conscience, I repeated to myself in my mind- "This is me protecting myself, and there's nothing wrong with that." usually followed by- ".......is there?" I hate my conscience, but then again, who doesn't? I let out a sarcastic smirk.
I noticed I was checking my watch every few minutes. Annoying myself with it afterwords because I don't like feeling impatient. But am I really that anxious to get outta here? I must be.
I took my attention off of my watch and off of my surroundings. Peering up into the great gray sky, I lifted my black shades and placed them on top of my head. Exposing my eyes to the light, it stung a tiny bit and made me wince.
It's as if I was pleading for it to rain. Suddenly losing my train of thought- my mind started to wander just slightly away from the thoughts of the predictable weather. I was reminiscing about the events that lead me up until this point.
I always seem to second-guess myself in every situation that didn't turn out the way it should have. What could have been done better? What shouldn't I have done? What needed to be done? What didn't need to be done? I apply all of those repetitive elements and rearrange the scenarios in my mind's eye.
This habit of imagining an alternate past makes me hate the fact that I can do nothing to change it. In my lifetime- I yearn to change a lot of things. I guess that means I have a lot of regrets, accompanied by a lot of darkened memories. I always look back at certain things to determine how much pain could have been spared.
I know some things shouldn't have been said here and there. I realized that I sometimes need to agree to disagree, you know, walk away and be the better person. Those civilized aspects we're taught in school are lost when we come of age sometimes.
The people who do keep that trait are called 'pushovers', and then even put down further. It's either we be pushovers or headstrong. Either way it's like we're damned if we do and damned if we don't. I always have this problem with people. If I don't speak up and they know I'm holding back- they will call me on it right away. And if I do speak my mind- I'm apparently some dictator type-wannabe who tries to always have his way. I really don't know what it is with people these days.
My eyes have been unfocused for sometime. I had another urge to check my watch because I didn't know how long I was day dreaming. I resisted it though, assuming only five minutes have passed. I bring my shades back down to shield my eyes- while still keeping my head skybound.
When I lose in anything I can't help but feel low. When I do win at something though- it's like I still lose in the long run. I speak my mind only if I'm sure that I'm in the right. I mean, we all have freedom of speech, right? I know it's cliche to say that, but it is true in all honesty.
I forget why I try and justify every wrong with a right. If I could- I would just start all over from the beginning of my life and grow up as a pushover, that would sure settle everything. I would accept that I was a pushover, and when called on it- I wouldn't have a problem with it because I knew it was natural.
I know I can't change the past, but I don't know if I can choose the right future when it comes down to it. What steps do I take and what steps do I -not- take? How do I take every step, and how do I not take a certain step? This cycle of being overly cautious can be draining to my psyche at times. It's like being stuck in a loop of a marry go round, but fast forwarding and rewinding every few minutes.
I felt a cold-tingly sensation on my face. It spread like chilled fireworks erupting on the surface of my skin. A raindrop gracefully landed right under the rim of my sunglasses and slid down my cheek slowly. I smiled for the first time in a long time, and it was a sincere one, too. I closed my eyes and cut my concentration off of the sky and just waited for the drizzle to pick up.
Moments later it finally did, and I was having the time of my life. I love the rain so much, it sure is an odd obsession, but an understandable one. I just sat there for god knows how long as the drops became heavier and more constant. The wind started to pick up, too.
It was like I was in the center of an orchestra of nature's most beautifulest occurrences. I couldn't get enough of this feeling- this cleansing feeling. When it rains it's like all of my problems just get washed away. I become lost from all of the bothersome memories. In this ephemeral serenity, I am no longer myself. I cut all of the connections of my humanity off and become one with the water.
My over-active imagination kicked in. I pictured myself standing up and holding my arms up with my eyes closed. And maybe a part of me wanted to have a slow motion dance montage added in there somewhere. My imagination was my best friend, that was for sure.
I will always be lost in this storm
As it forever rages on inside of me
Because all I can do now is mourn
While this story becomes a tragedy
Wincing at the random flashes of lightning
As they temporally blind me from the memories
This pathetic weakness of mine is worth hiding
You will never know what you've really done to me
The harsh fall of freezing rain
Sends staggering chills all over
I bathe alone in this nostalgic pain
Because it reminds me of when we were together
The sound of the bus coming to a stop suddenly snaps me out of my trance-like state. I check my watch quickly, and it was that time already. I picked up my luggage and headed towards the greyhound. Once everything was over with- I found a suitable seat near the back where I hoped that I wouldn't get bothered too much. I wasn't in the mood to sit beside someone who ended up becoming annoying for the duration of the ride.
I took my wet coat off and placed it on my lap neatly. I kept my shades on because I hate making eye contact with strangers. I'd rather do my best to avoid such awkwardness. I wasn't in a social mood, clearly.
I picked up the book bag that I had packed my notebook in, and along with it was my blue, ball-point pen.
In the last session I had with my therapist- she suggested that I try and start up a daily journal. That was right after I told her this might be the last time I'll attend an appointment. Even though I would rather much continue seeing her on a weekly or monthly basis. Liz is a wonderful woman. She really cares for her patients, she truly does, and I can't stress that enough. Week after week, and month after month, this lovely woman would hear me out. It didn't matter what I said. She always listened to every word and every detail. In the end she would leave me questions to go home and ponder about.
Now I didn't have her in my corner anymore. She was no longer there cheering me on. All that is left in my corner is this pen and worn out notebook. "This is the best I can do....for now." I thought to myself as I unblinkingly stared at it.
If I can't talk to anyone, the next best thing to do is to write it down. Liz told me that I need to get whatever is bothering me out of my system somehow. And writing it down was supposed to be an effective alternate way. It was worth a shot.
I felt the bus starting to move. Knowing I was on my way out of here, I suddenly felt lighter. I was the one leaving, but my problems are staying behind. They will be waiting for the day when I finally return, only to latch onto me once more, like they have been for so many years.
"I need to get away and recover, so I can come back stronger than ever." My sub-conscience has been whispering those words to me for some time now. Today, I finally heard it loud and clear, so I am granting that desire.
As the wheels started accelerating, I stared out the window to watch the old city drift by. Every street sign and every building was seared into my memory. I lived here all my life, and somehow- deep in the back of my mind it was kind of scary to see my hometown get left behind. I know over time I will most likely feel homesick. I will start to miss the little things that I've become accustomed to.
"The little things...are what really count." I whispered under my breath.
In that moment I felt the vibration of my cellphone go off. I had an idea of who it might be. I dug inside of my coat pocket and grabbed it. I was right, it was her, my sister.
Amy W. : I hope that you find what you're looking for. You know we all love you, and we'll be waiting for you here. I'm going to miss you, Jake.
I felt a pain in my chest. It was cold, colder than the rain outside. It was a pain that sent corruption through my veins and made me want to shake.
I felt another text trigger a vibration.
Amy W. : Please keep in touch, will you?
That made it worse for me. I wanted to reply right away, but I had to stop myself. If I replied- I would probably end up getting cold feet at the ferry docks and turn around. The predictions of my actions are right in these circumstances. I had to resist the temptation of replying. I reassured myself over and over that it was for the greater good. I can't call it tough love, that would mislabel the feeling completely.
I turned my phone off after that because I knew I couldn't handle any more. I stuffed the cellphone inside my backpack just to make sure I wouldn't obsess over it. She is the hardest person to be away from, especially when I'm feeling like this, and we both know that. It's not dependency- it's the connection we have with each other.
I don't like changes, especially big ones. I won't know where everything is in Vancouver. I won't know a single person there. It feels like I'm heading to some foreign land that's far away, but I'm not.
I had to take my mind off of everything, or else these thoughts were going to get the best of me. I took
my sunglasses off for a second to rub my watery eyes. I rearranged my wet bangs and collected myself enough to think straight.
I concentrated on the journal in my hands. Clenching the spine eagerly, I began to wonder what I was going to write about first. I flipped the cover over and exposed the first blank page. I was somehow nervous in a way. I bit my bottom lip slightly and pressed the pen against the paper and took in a deep breath.
-----> Chapter One: Chocolate...On A Valentines Day ----->