I can hear the rain. It's quiet and calming, and gently compels my subconscious to listen to it's rhythmical beating on the tin roof. It's the better judgment inside my head, the scarily accurate horoscope, the persistent guest at the door, happily waiting, but continually knocking, refusing to be ignored. It's careful, falling softly over the stiff gum leaves and the rocky path, but unable to be quiet over the roof. If I listen closely enough, I can convince myself that I can hear the hushed stream running softly nearby, but each movement and muted breath blocks the distant sound from my focused ears.

The twilight is quiet. Gone are the mosquitoes that followed us until I could count 26 bites on my left leg; gone are the crickets whose strident cries welcomed the night. All that's left are the wavering moths and gentle breeze; two soft constants that seem to spell despair, in the kindest possible way. It sends a shiver down my spine for reasons I'm not sure I understand, and I can feel the regret digging at my smile.

The door creaks comfortingly as I open it, and slides back into place with a quiet knock. The rainy grass is cold under my bare feet and it bites into my uncovered skin. I tiptoe across the soft blades, a pixie in the dew drops, not wishing to disturb the quiet rooms around me. The rain begins to soak through my clothes, but I don't stop, can't stop. I'm caught up in the overwhelming emotion – sheer bliss entangled with unadulterated pain. I'm unaccustomed to the mess of raw feeling, and it's in that moment that I can't breathe.

The ground slopes downward until my quiet breathing cannot block out the hum of the stream. I tread softly down the hill till I can feel the grass turn to mud and I stop. Here underneath the trees the rain cannot quite reach my sodden clothes and the gentle breeze nudges at my frozen core. Each exposed hair is on end, each limb noticeably shaking and my feet are petrified into stillness. It's darker than dark – shadowy and daunting, but peaceful and safe. I'd close my eyes but it would make little difference – the overwhelming black is impenetrable. Instead I open my mind to the quiet sounds, and my heart to the empty stillness.

And I'm vulnerable. I'm open to all those thoughts I've erased, and exposed to all the feelings I've forgotten I feel. I'm stuck in a beautiful contradiction – an empty mind alive with thoughts and just when I think that it's all too much I take a deep breath and can almost forget again. My whole body begins to shake, not from the cold, but from my newest resolve not to care. I hold myself steady and sway, counting from one to till I can breathe again.

I look inside myself and search for the bottom of my feelings, the very root cause of the chaos of feeling that I have become. With my eyes closed I watch a strange show play out in my mind, and somehow I'm still smiling; alone in the dark I'm smiling at simple memories that mean nothing to anyone but me. I've unlocked the vault that I save for a rainy day and I'm overwhelmed again.

I step forward slowly, the water swilling carefully around my ankles. It seeks out the path of least resistance and somehow the cold isn't affecting me any more. I slip over the small pebbles as I step cautiously forward, unable to see my path but content in the lack of understanding. I don't know where I'm walking, alone in the dark with nothing but my senses – and even one of them is down. But I'm a pixie again – a water nymph wishing on the quiet stream but not knowing exactly what it is that I want.

I don't know how long it is that I stand there – the cold in my toes and stiffness in my legs the only indication that it has been longer than a while. But when I walk back up the slope, the rain is gone and the sky is clear. Each star is glimmering and whispering to me, and I feel more insignificant in that moment that I knew that I could feel. And in that moment the silence is louder than any sound I've heard and I my soul shivers. All my vacant observations seem superfluous and I bite my lip.

My eyes turned skyward I breathe gently, watching the slow stillness unfold before me. My heart begins to ache and I can't grasp why but it scares me. Then it all begins to make sense to me and my mask slips off; the gentle smile that hasn't left my lips since I first heard the rain lands in a crumpled heap beside my frozen toes. A single tear tracks slowly down one cheek and I let it hang there, poised to fall off my chin if I move. But I don't move, firm in my resolution; because nobody knows that I break my neck just to keep my chin up.

And I stand there till I can see the gentle pink on the horizon welcoming in the morning. My whole being crumples then, relieved and thankful; I've made it through another night like that – those nights where I wish I'd said "don't go".


Author's Note:

i know its short, and i know its not my best, but i'm currently suffering a terrible case of writers block, so every single word in this document was pure pain to get onto paper and this was the best i could come up with. it took me three hours to write one page if that gives you any indication.

anyway, have a happy day!