I met my first night of being unable to sleep. I lay in my bed staring out the window that framed the top of a tree and the empty grey sky.
I hear the sound of rain -- but it couldn't be. I focus on the glass and notice it is stained with drops of fallen water. As the reflected light off passing cars sways on and off my walls, I begin to think 'Where am I? What am I doing here?'
The rain is coming down harder now, slicking the roads and flicking the leaves on the trees as it falls to the ground.
A summer rain.
I feel so far away from what I know and the past few days have felt out of place, to say the least. Even though I'm enjoying myself immensely, I am already missing those I love and wish they were here.
Maybe I was back in Chicago. Or a few years ago when the thunder clouds from the dessert spilled over the mountains and doused us in warm summer rain. Or maybe I am in the southern hemisphere, in a country I've only dreamt about. Now I walk, half-awake, in this dream.. following plans I'm not completely certain I've really made.
This world is new, and wet.