Honestly, I kind of just want to end it there because rain makes me feel so lazy. It makes me want to grab a cup of hot chocolate, pop in a dumb chick flick, and hibernate in bed. I love rain. It’s soothing and seamless and dynamic. It also gives you an excuse to be unproductive and feel damn good doing it.
But the thing about rain is that it’s only so comforting and compelling when you’re sheltered from it. Rain makes you nostalgic. Rain makes you safe. Rain makes you sleepy. Rain doesn’t make you want to get your ass out of your warm blankets and go for a hike. Or jog from your dorm room to class. The reality is that rain is cold and wet and messy. The beauty of rain is transmitted to us through the window, through the soft staccato raps on and the blurry wet mess cascading down the glass. It’s right next to us but it can’t quite reach us. Maybe we’re just in love with the impression of rain, with all the warm and fuzzy feelings it evokes in our stone cold hearts.