elemental weather and a bed by the window

There's something about rain that makes me, well, not pause and ponder really, though that sounds so much more profound; jus stay up incredibly late and watch it wash all the sickening heat out of my city. I force myself to think sad and for once, I, the queen of all things gloomy, can't come up with one stifling thought to go with the stifling weather. Been very very long since this last happened but I'm calm, laid-back and not thinking of any one thing in particular. All I can see is the simple fact that I've changed so much. Random thoughts and everything that flashes by leads right back to this: that I've changed.

I used to love getting drenched in the rain, a love probably inherited from my dad than cultivated - dad moved from one rain-soaked city to another and missed his rain-soaked land as much as I miss mine now and made sure his kids see him fly into raptures the moment it started drizzling.
I used to love being around people, being surrounded by people I know, chided, bossed over, being loved, belonging. I used to be a rotten sister: younger brothers were never meant to be loved, I willingly submitted to the stereotype of the elder hence smarter sister and was about as big an asshole as indifference allows.
I used to believe in friendship.
I used to believe in love that is forever.
I used to believe in God. completely. without any doubts.
I always wanted to look better than I already did.
I was convinced I'm one of those lesser beings who are solely responsible for the world being a mediocre place that just about runs.

Now,
I will watch the rain from a distance, stretch my arm out and let the drops slide down to my elbow and admire the path a drop takes almost following my vein, but I will not let the rain really touch me.
Friendless, but glad. I used them all, most used me and am now left incapable of trusting anyone but myself.Yes, I care about my brother now and watch with concealed respect what the kid's turning into.
Am not so sure about God now and not being sure almost means not believing in her/him/it.
A trip across half a planet and a million reassurances later I'm comfortable in my skin.Yeah, it does help that my hair's so breathtakingly perfect, these days.
The world is still a mediocre place but if it runs at all, it is because of me. alright and because of a coupla others.

And the best part? Only he knows how much I've changed, I suspect he quietly nudged me into evolving, and yeah, into feeling such love for myself.
I almost can't recognize myself from a coupla years back but I am the me I want to be now and for a long time to come.
Content.

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true;
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face.
- Yeats

(Perhaps a little vain, but hey, self-indulgence is the theme of this blog.)