It’s raining tonight.
And I don’t mind.
In fact, normally, I find beautiful things in the rain. The way the shrubs and trees and grass burst with luscious life. They way they pop with extra vibrancy against their bleak grey backdrop.
The fresh smell of things revived.
The moist in the air that feels like it’s good for my skin. The jewelish patterns it leaves on the windowpanes. The sound of it panging the roof.
And hey, I’m always wanting a valid reason for a roaring fire.
But tonight, I feel sad listening to the pitter of raindrops smacking on the outside shell of my world. For whatever reason, this night is not one of those nights that I’m willing to search for brightness amongst the streaky, cellophaned streets or the drippy ink sky.
No. Tonight, I just want to be sad.
And that’s alright. Because sadness is poetic. We are lucky to live the sad moments. And rarely do we stay sad forever, right?
Sad is not the enemy.
Because being completely sad is, after all, the very thing that allows us to know when we are completely happy.
And we know this, because our hearts tell us. And so does the wise Louis CK…