Have you ever walked in the autumn rain? Just like the sunshine warms the breezy beaches, and the snow blankets the silent cemeteries, the rain drenches my clothes, and no, you can not tell that I’m crying. Covered from head to toe in the wetness and music, my feet plop through puddles, as my mind flips through the memories. An image of a long-forgotten night, slightly opened windows, and the sound of the raindrops drumming away at the symphony of choices and regrets. And these sounds blend with the music in my headphones, and I trot through alleys, and my bones are getting chilly, and my clothes are getting heavy, and no, you can not tell that I’m crying, since these are only tears of the rain.
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