Authors Notes: This is sort of inspired by the song Like the Rain by Clint Black.
Disclaimer: Jonathan Larson is really awesome, don't you think?
I've never really liked the rain. It always rained when something bad happened. It rained the day my grandmother died. I think I cried more than the sky did. She was the only one that really understood me – and the only one allowed to call me Tommy. It also rained the day I was born, so maybe I was doomed from the start.
I met this guy once on a particularly rainy day. His name was Don. I thought maybe my luck with the rain would change. Don was amazing, he really was. It rained the day we broke up. He called me a few months later and told me to get tested. I cried, but the skies didn't. Then I got the test results back proving my worst fear – I was HIV positive. It rained that day too.
It didn't rain the day I met Angel. The day had actually been rather nice, sunny and sort of warm for Christmas Eve. The snow was melting, but for how long that had been going on, I wasn't sure.
I remember the first time it rained when we were together. Not until the end of January.
--
"Collins, sweetie," Angel touched my shoulder, "look how pretty it is outside."
"Angel, it's raining," I replied.
"I know," she smiled. "It's so pretty when it rains." I guess she saw the look on my face. "What, you don't like the rain?"
"It's never done me any good."
--
It rained a lot during April. Everyone always said April was the cruelest month. Roger knew what I was going through. It was his first April without April, and even though he had Mimi, I knew it still hurt him.
Angel didn't bother me about the rain until September. It wasn't pouring, but it wasn't misting either.
--
"Collins, it's so pretty outside," Angel gazed out the window.
I walked over to her, placing my hand on the small of her back. I looked too, watching the clouds cry on the New York streets. It was kind of pretty, watching the rain splatter against the cement in the moonlight. "Yeah, baby, it is pretty this time."
She smiled at me, a twinkle dancing in her eyes. "Let's go dancing."
My eyes widened. "In the rain?"
She nodded excitedly, grabbing my hands to pull me out the door. "I've always wanted to."
"Angel, you'll catch another cold," I tried to reason with her. It had never really worked in the past, but maybe she'd listen. "You don't want to get sick, do you?" I really didn't feel like getting wet – or catching a cold myself.
"But Collins," she pouted, "live for the moment, don't think for once."
Not thinking for once had never done me any good in the past. Neither had the rain. Looking at Angel, I just couldn't say no to her. So I smiled and let her lead me into the street.
We stood there dancing in the rainy street, just holding each other as heaven's tears soaked through our clothes, drenching our skin. Living for the moment was surprisingly nice, even though it involved rain.
--
I was right. Angel did catch a cold. A really bad one. I got worried when it didn't go away by October. I sat on the train just holding her shaking body as we journeyed back and forth to the hospital. By the fifth trip, the doctors wouldn't let her go home. I felt bad going to Benny, but I just broke down and told him how scared I was. He owed it to me – to Roger and Mark – to do something good with the money he married into. At least my Angel had a chance.
As I sit here now, helpless in my Angel's battle against AIDS, all I can do is cry. There's nothing I can do but cry – and pray the skies aren't crying with me. But my eyes are the only part of that are crying. My heart isn't. Partly because I know she wouldn't have wanted it any other way. She was living for the moment – living for every moment – because she didn't know what moment would be the last. As I hold her now, not knowing which breath will be her last, I can't help but think that living for the moment is better in the long run. Even if it involves the rain.
Fin