Why I Love The Rain

It’s raining, and as the familiar drone taps incessantly atop my head, I continue walking without a care. It’s funny, it wasn’t raining when I started walking from my apartment, I didn’t notice the first tiny drops until the sky opened up, intent on drowning me.

Quick question, why am I walking in the rain? I’m startled by my own inquiry and look left and right for shelter. There’s a boarded up convenience store on the other side of the street, I cross and shake off the cold water cascading down my face underneath the overhang. I put my hand inside my pockets and find a pack of cigarettes, useless now, drenched. I put it back and cross my arms in an effort to warm myself.

Scanning the neighborhood, I find myself on a familiar path towards her apartment. My aimless walk wasn’t as random as I thought. The connection between my subconscious and my feet are fully functional still, I suppose, despite all the lying. What remains of my pride is alerted, I step out of the shelter and retrace my steps.

Now that I am fully conscious, I start to shiver against the cold. This definitely isn’t worth all the drama. I look back, squinting my eyes in the dark hoping that a jeep, a tricycle, anything really, would save me from the long walk home. Of course there isn’t, not much action going on at 2 in the morning. The occasional scooter passes by, and some cars. The thought of flashing a thumb is at once shunned as a van almost sideswipes me. Well, this is as good as it gets.

For anyone who’s been out walking in the rain on a stormy night, I’m sure you’ll know how fast these moments fill up the bladder. I’m unsure if it’s the humidity, the cold, the tip-tap of the raindrops or osmosis. My steps hasten, pulse quickening and the cold sweat alternates with the rain getting into my eyes. Each puddle I tread reminds me of this urgent need, and every footfall goads the bladder to relief.

Do I do it now or hold it? Normally I abhor this practice of peeing in public, deeming it Neanderthal, but given the situation, Neanderthals do make sense. I cozy up to the nearest electrical post and unzip my pants. Instantly the warm feeling in my gut gives way to a relieving cool, the sensation makes me smile as I feel each trickle unburdening me. There is nothing better than a good long pee, absolutely nothing better. I imagine this must be what nirvana is supposed to feel, letting go and finding fulfillment in the moment. I wait until I’m absolutely sure I’m all tapped out… then shake it off for good measure before I put it back in my pants. My knees start to buckle, I can’t move as my body yearns to remember this exact moment for posterity.

I think back to the last time I’ve ever had a good pee. I remember years ago, on a night like this a friend of mine and myself were stranded in knee high floodwaters. We had been walking in the flood for 2 hours, penniless and yearning for a bowl of hot soup at home. On the third hour, we finally reached a mall and begged the security guard to let us in or we’d pee all over the doors. He obliged and we ran to the nearest restroom, letting it all out. Happy times.

So I stand there, holding on to the post lest my knees give way and let the moment sink in. This puts everything in the proper perspective.

The long walk back to my apartment went uneventfully, and whilst I started out all downtrodden and a mess, getting back was immensely uplifting. Everyone deserves a good raining on.