Drenched In Rainy Day Memories…

A couple walks damp streets on a lovely early spring evening that has slowly segued into an equally lovely if rainy night. No rainy was not the right word. Misty; it was that misty rain that you could not see unless you were looking at the drops break the surface of whatever puddles have gathered about. Enough to make you wet if you stayed in it for any duration, yet not enough to warrant use of an umbrella. They talk, joke and tease, as any young couple still in the early stages will do as they learn about one another. On a twist of etiquette, she walks him home.  She convinces him that it was still early enough that she would be fine for the ten or so blocks from his place to hers. Still she promises to call once she’s home to assuage his fears. She is not going to be your average girl and he knows it. They exchange a brief kiss goodnight and he shakes his head musing on the role reversal as he heads in.

She walks a few yards when gut instinct alone makes her turn around suddenly. They both jump in surprise. He at quickness at which she spun on him and she at just how close he was to her before she sensed him. Hands in their respective pockets they stand close to each other, very close. Almost imperceptibly, their heads instinctively turn slightly askance as they lean into each other. Each feels the heat of the breath of the other play along their respective lips, but there is no other contact between them. They stay that way for a long moment, exchanging breaths, before leaning away. Somehow breathless from the exchange, the chill that runs down both spines had nothing to do with the mist falling upon their faces, gentle as the kiss they didn’t exchange. Eyes stare questioning and answering, answering and questioning in complete silence.  Finally, they both turn and walk to their respective homes.  Somehow they both knew, in that moment of saying nothing yet saying everything, they had just crossed that magical line past friendship into something much deeper and they were truly and completely fucked!


Nearly a decade later, as Bill and I walked off the dance floor at a friend’s wedding, a cousin asks why did it always looked like we were making love when we were slow dancing. I, always the flippant one, quickly responded because we are. Our cousin looked at us befuddled before Bill continues on my comment by adding there are ways to make love that don’t involve sex; like kissing without kissing in a spring rain. I blinked and stared at him.  That night was something never before mentioned between us until just that moment. I honestly thought he had forgotten about it though, I guess, I should have known better. I blushed and then I grinned.  I have no idea what was the look that passed between he and I at that moment, but I do know our cousin sucked her teeth and walked away saying we needed to “get a room!”


Sunday night as I walked home in an early spring misty rain, those two memories, now intertwined as one, came to me.  Now Monday morning, I am left to wonder if I will be blessed enough to feel anything even close to that ever again.

7 thoughts on “Drenched In Rainy Day Memories…

  1. Lovely, Rai. In the tale, I was relieved it was Bill coming back up to you- for a moment I was worried you were getting mugged! But beautifully told. I hope you find that connection again, too. There are wonderful and interesting people out there, so I have faith that you will.

  2. Raivenne,

    That’s indeed a beautiful story of when you and your late husband discovered your love for each other. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to feel such a level of sentiment, and you’re to be envied. Again, a beautiful story.


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