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Description
When heavy rains hit the window pane, I don't feel so useless. Even the sky cries, and I can dry her tears. Her tears are comforting to feel streaking down my own warm cheeks when nothing else seems to matter. When I stand beneath the expansive weeping visage of the ever present blanket that smothers us, there's no pressure for words that will fix everything and solve the all-consuming rolls of anguish and flashes of anger. My presence is enough to make the tears become the welcome sign of the acknowledgment that she isn't really happy. And that's alright. Because together we can sit, comforted by the fact that we're not the only ones who hate what we should love and are otherwise fucking up our bitterly earned happiness. Our vicious retorts, that warrants the burning of our spiteful tongues a tenfold, reveal true meaning in our own self depraved criticisms. It's just easier to blame someone else for the cold aching once in a while. When she cries I don't need to have my footing, this empathy is enough to make a haven that we can take shelter in for a short time, abandoning the confusion and torment. The rain is a cold hard love, and it makes me feel accepted.

Description
When heavy rains hit the window pane, I don't feel so useless. Even the sky cries, and I can dry her tears. Her tears are comforting to feel streaking down my own warm cheeks when nothing else seems to matter. When I stand beneath the expansive weeping visage of the ever present blanket that smothers us, there's no pressure for words that will fix everything and solve the all-consuming rolls of anguish and flashes of anger. My presence is enough to make the tears become the welcome sign of the acknowledgment that she isn't really happy. And that's alright. Because together we can sit, comforted by the fact that we're not the only ones who hate what we should love and are otherwise fucking up our bitterly earned happiness. Our vicious retorts, that warrants the burning of our spiteful tongues a tenfold, reveal true meaning in our own self depraved criticisms. It's just easier to blame someone else for the cold aching once in a while. When she cries I don't need to have my footing, this empathy is enough to make a haven that we can take shelter in for a short time, abandoning the confusion and torment. The rain is a cold hard love, and it makes me feel accepted.