Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy
Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry
Sunshine on the water looks so lovely
Sunshine almost always makes me high...
Huh. I wish.
All alone, I wait. Time passes, but not as clock hands whirring, nor as leaves falling. Instead, time passes according to how many times my heart can break. How many pieces it can make. As I sit here, I stare out the window and wonder…How? What? Why? How? What? Why? Until the questions turn into a mantra that I simply can't stop.
How did it happen?
What made it happen?
Why did it happen?
How could it flee?
What let it leave?
Why did it not stop?
How did it go?
What made it end?
Why was I left alone…
The letter clutched in my hand is almost transparent with sweat. Not the sweat of excitement, or even the sweat of fear. No, the ink is blurred with the heat and moisture of shock and sorrow.
Outside the window, the sun shines. I suppose that is fitting. I never liked the sun. It bites, spreading poison that covers your body, burning, burning…until all that is left is blistering skin, rubbed raw by clothing and bed sheets. The sun causes dizziness, and headaches. The exact same feelings I am possessed by now.
No, I always loved the rain. Whether it is falling gently, barely felt, never seen, or screaming down in torrents; I love it. I am embraced by it.
It can kiss you gently, or beat at you like a hammer. It cools your hurts by making them numb. Ever run in a thunderstorm? Then you should know what I mean.
In rain I have run, swum, sung, screamed and danced. I have collapsed, saved and been saved. I have been hit, hurt, and kissed. They're all the same when in the rain.
So which is better? The sun which rips and hurts; a symbol of emotion and feeling? Or rain that calms and sooths; a symbol of neutrality and numbness?
He loved the sun, I loved the rain. I suppose just knowing that we should have known that it was doomed.
He saw me dancing. Alone. My hair in rats tails. My feet cut and bleeding, covered in mud. Hands to the sky, screaming as I spun. He asked me why I was alone. I told him I would go with the person who made me feel. I didn't care if it was love or pain I was destined to, just so long as the emptiness would stop. Could it stop? He danced with me. That was the first time I embraced sunlight. The first time I felt that…
What a fool I was.
Fire and water. Did I smother him, or did he burn me? Is it him who went, while I stay to nurse my wounds, or shall I disappear whilst he lives on? What is a life without warmth? What is a life without love?
Slowly, slowly my heart is dissolving. The pieces fall brittle, like twigs from an ancient basket, to crumble and be swept away by a wind that is too dry. I didn't live before I knew him, why should I live now that he is gone?
Like lightning in a storm it hits.
Heat creates life, cold brings death. Passion is living, and living is pain. Numbness is emptiness, not even a force, but a void, that exists to suck life from the alive. It creates nothing; it only exists to bring about the end of light. Like when water is thrown onto burning tinder.
I lift my head to look out the window where the sun still shines and the birds still sing. A ray of light falls across my arm. I shield it, on instinct. And yet the light still touches me. Smiling, beckoning. And in that moment I realise…
Here comes the rain.
A/N: I am sorry if this fanfiction did not make sense. I'm also sorry for wasting your time if you think my writing is terrible. Please don't give me reviews along the lines of "what the?" I got what I was thinking onto metaphorical paper, so I'm happy. Don't review unless you want to. I won't hold it against you. I DON'T KNOW WHO YOU ARE for crying out loud.
Disclaimer: I do not own the concept of fairytales. I didn't write the opening lines, they're lyrics from a song called, amazingly, "Sunshine on my shoulders". I probably should add in that although this isn't based on these things, they contributed to my thought process (I don't own them either):
Buffy; Once More with Feeling
Summer Rain