“Most things will be okay eventually, but not everything will be. Sometimes you’ll put up a good fight and lose. Sometimes you’ll hold on really hard and realize there is no choice but to let go. Acceptance is a small, quiet room.” ― Cheryl Strayed

As I walk along the path by the rows of houses full of what I believe to be happy couples and families, I get a sense of déjà vu.

I took this same walk about seven years ago. It was during a period in my life where something was ending. Like that time, another end is upon me now. And during both walks, the rains came. It was almost like it was waiting for me as if it knew I’d be there. Like an old friend wanting to comfort me. The same walk, the same kind of end, the same rain.

Like her hand in mine, it felt so familiar — the feeling not lost on me.

It wasn’t a heavy rain, and it wasn’t unpleasant. It was one of those rains that wraps you in its arms and feels like a gift from above, washing away a bit of the sadness and the heartache. So soft and gentle, this rain gave me just a little hope that something good will come from all the pain.

And even though I don’t like to take this walk, I was thankful for the rain. You can cry and no one notices — your tears merge with the raindrops on your face. There’s no one around and everything becomes peaceful. It’s just you and the rain and the pattering of the water on the pavement. It becomes a bit of a cleansing, a shedding of the hurt.

I’m sure I’ll take that walk again. There will be another ending. That is life and what it means to be human. There will be more pain, more heartache, more paths to go down.

Yet, there will also be love and joy. There will be beginnings and days full of sunshine. And although it’s hard to imagine, there will be better days ahead. Days where I will feel somewhat normal, where I will feel a little something other than sorrow.

But right now, I want to walk in the rain. I want to let it flow over me and wash everything away. I want to feel its compassion and understanding. To hold me in its warmth.

I want to be on that path.

When the rains come.

Jeff Barton is a writer, ultra-runner, lover of books and zombies, a practitioner of positive thinking, and most importantly, a dad. Living and loving life one day at a time. You can find him at jeffthewriter.com and jefftherunner.com.


Image courtesy of Tristan Gassert.