I love rain. And as glorious lightening poured down outside, I sat across the table in warm feelings of muddlement.

Blistering sheets flew about the street and the ground was littered with the sparks of rain touching down.

The simple conversation comes in semi-fragments covering nothing in particular. But a few days ago I learned you were leaving.

And now we just enjoy the time that's still here.

I never quite learned what to do with you. It never quite clicked.

Your delights are so subtle and I take such joy as I notice them. No - nothing quite happened between us, but you make me happy to be around.

You make me want to be a better person. I'm aware of the awkward and naive way I deal with you and I wish it were different.

I wish it would keep raining. I love the rain.

You're leaving the city. And I never knew you.

I wish I had.

I wish I had known how to be around you. To not be so awkward and naive. I am so very glad to have known you. I like to think I have learned things from you, although sometimes I wonder how much I actually did. You are unique and beautiful - inside and out. You could make me happy, smile and un-self-conscious. Maybe you will always confuse me. But maybe it's good not to understand everything.