I don’t like the rain, anymore. Looks too much like tears, I tell people, when they ask. Everyone knows I’ve had enough of them already…but that’s not the real reason I avoid them, most days, or the reason I walk into it, some nights, all alone, and let it drench me to the core.

I fear the rain-and chase it-so often, because it reminds me of memories; things that hurt, but must never be forgotten. All water does it to me-it’s been present in so much of my life-but the rain does it most of all. That’s why I stand out there, all alone, surrounded by a million droplets, eyes wide open and head tilted back, as I drink it all in, and drown in the flood. I’m doing it even now, as I think this, waiting for Lake Memory to overcome me, swallowing me whole as her larger real life counterpart once did my wife. I wait for my head to sink beneath the waves, as I sink to the bottom of the murky world that is my memory, to preserve once more that which must never be forgotten, no matter how horrid the remembrance.

My head falls beneath the waves, as the first memory comes to the surface. It’s our former friends this time-former to Katherine, because she is dead. Former to me for much the same reason…

The memory is of the first group outing we had, this time-I had almost forgotten the rain that had cascaded outside of the restaurant-but that’s why I came out here in the first place, after all, to stop the forgetting. Fresh memories would have been wasted.

It was the first time that we had all gone out together, the first time my friends got to meet the new girl, who stole away their time with me, and her friends the guy; me.

I remember how nervous I was now-how the sweat trickled down my forehead, and into my eyes, much like the rain in present time-but that is the future, and this is the past, so long as I stay beneath the surface. It wouldn’t do to merge them.

The memory starts to move forward now, and I become not an observer, but just another player, drawn forward by the currents in this lake turned Sea of Memory. There is no fighting the path now, nor wish to.

I’m holding her hand, wondering if she notices the sweat of my palms, and knowing she wouldn’t say a thing either way. Our friends are talking, and laughing, all the while shooting furtive looks at us, but I don’t notice, not at first. Then one of my friends call Katherine my girlfriend, and I shoot a look to her, seeing how she takes it.

I’m embarrassed, uncertain of whether she is ready to label our relationship anything. I know it is too high shcoolish, but knowing doesn’t rid me of the embarrassment, or the fear.

She smiles, though, without an objection, and I am happy to see her smile.

Time moves strangely, as we eat, and talk, sometimes too fast to notice any of what is going on, sometimes slowly so that I may view every detail in a single second before things speed up once more.

I’m more confident now, as I call her my girlfriend, and wait to see her reaction. Her smile grows wider, and my happiness increases. I don’t know whether it is from having her as my girlfriend, or having her happy, but the affect it has on me is no less.

The tide of memory is receding, and the sea calming, as my head bursts forth from the sea, returning me to the real world of rain and pain. I don’t want to be back, though, preferring the world of memory, and the Sea obliges happily, swallowing me whole.

We’re walking home, my hand in hers, and the moonlight is on us, and suddenly we are at her home, and I know I can kiss her good night, right on the lips; but I don’t. For all my confidence, I am still to frightened, so I turn and walk away, with a simple peck on the cheek, and I walk away. There is no pain in her eyes tonight, in the memory, no look of rejection. Perhaps it was not that way in real life-perhaps distance makes her grow perfect, as I willfully hide from her flaws. But the memory is still beautiful, for all the doubt. A doubt that could not exist, if the Sea of Memory was not receding once more, to spit me out into the world above.

I still don’t want it to go, but it doesn’t care for my wants, as I watch it drain away. The rain has stopped, I notice, and a rainbow shines in the sky, drawing my attention and turning the direction of my thoughts, if not so much as I would like.

For many people, I suppose, the rainbow is a reminder that there is beauty, and wonder, to come from even the worst of times. I was one of those people, at one point, but the rainbow means something else, these days, to my now bleak mind, as I watch it until it fades away.

It is just another reminder, to me, that beauty always fades away; pain is forever.