I feel rain
The rainy weather recently reminds me of our last morning together.
I woke up almost cold on the unfamiliar side of my bed with you as far from me as we could get in one bed. The mood between us never warmed up because I couldn't speak that day.
Do you remember that night? You called me and called me. I was sick and for the first time wouldn't pick up the phone when I knew you were on the other end. I heard your voice from the answering machine in the next room and just buried my head in my pillow. "I'm sick," I said to myself. "It's okay not to answer the phone because I'm sick. I have to take care of myself."
I finally listened to the messages you left a couple days later. You ended the last one with, "I love you, Angie." The only time I would ever you hear say those words was through a tinny answering machine speaker.
I didn't know how to reply to that message. Maybe you knew. Is that why you called me at the office? I couldn't have been more surprised than when you told me you were coming out to visit. You said we'd talk about that message when you saw me.
I should have told you why I couldn't speak that day, but I couldn't squeeze any words past the lump in my throat. I was waiting for you to tell me if you loved me. I didn't ask. I guess I could have started the conversation, but I was waiting for you.
Our drive to the airport through the rain capped off that long, cold, silent day. That's why the recent rainy weather reminds me of you.