The Smell of Rain

The smell of rain makes me… nostalgic? That’s not exactly the right word. But it’s close.

There’s always something about the smell of the rain makes me stop. It wakes up a piece of me that I forgot about, and suddenly I know -I KNOW- there’s something I’m supposed to be doing. Somewhere I’m supposed to be. Somewhere that’s not here and something that’s not this. But I can never quite remember where and what that is. So I always just stop, and for that moment I feel… lost. And I search for something I’ve never actually grasped.

Whatever it is I feel like I’ve forgotten–the rain almost brings it up enough for me to remember where it is I’m supposed to go. But it never quite wakes up enough. So I just… stand there. In the rain. Trying to remember something I’m not even really sure I’ve ever actually forgotten.

And I always think that moment is beautiful. Until I finally pull myself away and go back to the place that isn’t quite right so I can do the things that aren’t quite perfect. But that feeling will be waiting for me again. The next time it rains.

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