Call me cheesy, but one of the things I wish to do before I die is to kiss under a pouring rain. And by pouring rain I really meant like the storm in that particular scene on Notebook, not just some stupid drizzle in some stupid park in Tasmania on a year 9 camp with a guy who barely looked like Ryan Gosling.
Call me naive, but rainbows make me happy. And of course rainbow only appears after rain pours. In short, rain makes me happy.
Call me a nutcase, but when I was about 7 I thought those tiny drops of water coming down from the sky were literally God’s tears, and when it rained, I believed God was crying for the sake of humankind. For some reason, those irrational believes kind of put a deeper meaning of how I viewed rain when I was little.
Call me a pseudomaniac, but I hate the saying “Always have your umbrella ready in case it rains”. It’s like, dude how boring can you be?? Accept some challenges instead of avoiding them in the first place, for God’s sake!
Call me a bitch, but I hate sharing umbrellas. At times like that, the world only belongs to me and the sound of raindrops hitting the umbrella, so no need of intruders please.
The only time I hate rain is the hours before it happened. The weather gets super hot and all humid and sticky and makes me wanna kill somebody, but when finally the rain comes everything turns composed and replenished again.
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