Have you ever felt the urge to run out and dance in the rain? It's a fairly resistable urge, much to the surprise of many song writers and poets. Most people ignore it completely, taking to simply imagining the romantic moment while flipping through channels on the tv. But really. Is there a person out there who hasn't wanted to just jump in a puddle, release that inner tigress and pounce? Rain is the most natural thing on this planet. Though few actually take the time to understand it, we accept it. Nobody tries to change the rain. Sure, little kids sing their songs because they want to go out and play ball, but what are they really going to do about it?
You can tell a lot about people by how they react to a rainstorm. Some huddle together in bunches, watching movies and taking comfort in the contrast between their warm sofas and the chilly pellets that bombard the streets. Others pretend that rain doesn't effect them. They whip out umbrellas and squeaky boots, prepared to fight the forces against them. Then, there are the adventurers. The ones whose lips twitch into a smile the instant they feel that first drop on their forehead. The rain does not hit them like an agressive attack. No, it melts into their skin, morphing into the body that welcomes it. Sometimes those people annoy me. I stare at the puddle twirling girls, laughing like they have it all in that one moment. When I stare out my windows at them, I hate everything. What could be so happy about such a moment? Surely their enjoyment is simply a means to make others feel bad about their own lives, and to make them feel like they aren't outgoing enough to jump into a rainstorm. But then... other times I'm one of those people. I grin secretly to myself, taking those extra short steps so that the walk to my house without an umbrella can extend by just the smallest margin. It's like nobody else matters. How can they intrude upon that moment? When a curtain of rain separates me from the rest of the world. I know I'm being cheasy right now, but that's alright. Sometimes you just feel like your joints have been clogged up by that cheese in a can stuff and you have to write it down somewhere. So bare with me.
Yesterday I had one of those moments in the rain. Instead of just walking to where I was meant to go, I pointed my umbrella to the ground and just... walked. And you know what I realized? Rain is cold. No matter how warm your embraces may be in a passionate rainy movie scene, or how fast you spin, or how hard you jump into that puddle, rain is cold. If you accept it into your body, it slinks its way through your system, meandering along goosebumps and arm hairs. By the time I got back, I was freezing. So was it worth it? Was shivering alone on a dim sidewalk for no other reason than just to feel something.... was it worth it?