i’m a proud, card carrying pluviophile. always have been. i don’t know if it’s a condition of growing up in the great pacific northwest or if it’s a combination of growing up here and having parents that didn’t restrict activities because of the rain. unless there was lightning strikes, my siblings and i were playing outside. riding bikes in the rain, football, soccer, running-yep all can be done in the rain. gardening, walking to the store, etc. on the flip side, rainy days also equate snuggly blankets, reading for hours on end, taking a nap. And as I got older, I’ve always found rain to be soothing, romantic and reviving as well as the perfect company for those moments when all i want to do is cry.
the romantic in me has always stopped at the sight of love in the rain. a pair holding hands and sharing an umbrella, children laughing and splashing in puddles with abandon, a couple sharing a kiss.
when we last met, each of us flying to a city where we are both anonymous in our every day lives, the weather was unusually warm and dry for the time of year. knowing my penchant for the rain, he surprised me while we were sharing a bath and turned on the shower as well and then he kissed me. and kept kissing me. kissing in the rain.