Before I gained interest about the supernatural and the likes, I've always thought that my life was perfectly normal. I was never curious about the struggles of others, never thought of asking how they managed to live after every problems that they encounter. It was natural. I thought. Things happen to people.
The person who was supposed to fetch me from school forgot about me. I was nine when it first happened. Rain came pouring down my uniform. My socks were drenched. Water came rushing down the slope in front of the school gate. I felt cold and alone. I sat there in dark, trying to make a conversation with the yellow bear character embroidered in my backpack as I wait until a familiar woman came. I don't really remember what she said or what I said. I barely remember my past, especially my childhood. But I never forgot about that day. It's weird. I happen to remember that event four years ago, when it rained all night while I was cleaning my bedroom.
Yeah, a lot has happened since.
"Didn't you know?" "Know what?" "The rain cursed me," I hesitated but continued to tell my friend about stories of my misfortune every time the rain pours. "Are you sure?" They asked. Yes, I am. I'm sure. The first time a boy broke my heart, a storm came. It rained when my parents were fighting at 2 AM. She told him to get out of the house and to never contact us again. I lost a friend while walking under the rain, and when I lost my phone. Hurtful words were thrown at me one raining September night. With every raindrop that went traveling down the window of my parents' car, my sanity was taken with it.
I guess the sky mourns for me. It's their way of apologizing. Maybe. I'd like to think of it that way. Maybe everything happens for a reason. Or maybe everything happens, and reasons are then created. Sometimes, I create lies to comfort myself. But no matter how hard I wish that things could've been different, it doesn't necessarily mean they'd be better.
Luck was on my side when I passed the entrance exam of a college eight hours away from my hometown. I called the place The City That Never Rains because it rarely rained there. I never thought that maybe the curse would be lifted, though. I was young and stupid and I felt like I needed to be responsible for a dog that I saw around my uni. I kept the dog under my wing, but she eventually died three days after. The sun was up the day I lost her. It didn't rain. No grey skies. No raindrops sliding down my face. No, I'm not quite sure anymore. I'm not sure if the rain really cursed me, or if I cursed myself into this mess. One thing is for sure: I never wished for any of this to happen. I mourned for a week. And I know that most feelings are fleeting but I swear could make a home out of this one.
Maybe if you pay attention to the patterns of your life, you'll realize everything always works out. You always grow and the things you think you can't survive, you somehow divinely make it through. The universe sent me angels that time. A lot of friends and people supported me. My cousin's husband even told me, and I quote: "Aly is in the rainbow bridge now. She's gonna come back to you in another dog's body, just like Gwen's first pup!" I didn't expect that a year after my dog's death I would be given another angel. I held unto what he said to me and it kept me going.
After months full of reflection and realization, my life was far from normal. It's messy, heart-wretching, unpredictable. It was never normal. Funny how I blamed the rain for every bad thing that happened to me. A guy once told me that it's just a matter of perspective. I never really agreed to that before, but now I do.
Looking back, it was kind of foolish of me to think that I was cursed. It was never about the weather, if the skies are crying today. It wasn't about the place or the people in it. I don't know if the curse was lifted, but I let it rain on me. I'm ready to face the cold breeze with strength written all over my face. Strong winds with slight rain. Mostly cloudy with a huge chance of rain. I wouldn't care. I'm stronger now. I'm dancing in the rain this time.
This is me writing to you, my beloved reader. This is me trying to survive every day that I woke up to. This is me trying to see the silver lining, or the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. This is me saying that you should see life in my own pair of eyes. This is me saying try. I beg you, try. Try to thank yourself for existing. Try to care for yourself more. Try to live a little today. Because it's a serious thing to be alive in this broken world even if you think you're just a tiny speck.
