#aubreytalksaboutsadstuff

Rain has always been a constant source of comfort for me. As soon as the wind starts to rustle the leaves outside my bedroom window, and the flicker of lightning can be seen on the horizon- that’s when I am the most genuine version of myself. The earth must purify itself, sending showers down from the heavens to wash us, the dirty. The rain purifies my soul. It returns it to its most vulnerable state, and lately... I’m not so sure that that is a good thing. This month has been the hardest I’ve had to deal with in a long time. April is the month of the rain. I’ve lost myself in the flood. The person I was going into this month is not the same person who is typing this and crying her eyes out. She was content, certain of herself, and actually happy- for once in her life. And now, the rains have washed the sun out, leaving only clouds. Everyday, I have to take an umbrella with me everywhere in fear a down pour will fall. There’s always a chance of rain in the forecast.