With the gentle rhythm of the rain

I sat quietly lost in my own thoughts. The day was cool and damp, perfectly suited to this melancholic mood that had been following me for days, weeks, months, years now. Unable to shake the feeling I finally embraced it; let it carry me through my days and lonely nights.

Five years. That's how long it has been since the accident. The one that took her away form me. Five years today to be exact. I never got to say goodbye. People tried to comfort me with the usual and expected platitudes. But it was OK. It's never really OK. I should've been there to help out. She might still be here if there hadn't been so much on her mind, all the stress weighing her down.

Accident. Sure...caused by all that stress and heartache that she burdened with. She didn't want to admit that she needed help. Turns out she has a(n only) granddaughter just like her.

One who fights everyday to remember that the accident wasn't her fault, who has only memories to pass the time. Her voice is mostly forgotten now. And it is little details like that that are torture. So I sit quietly and torture myself with those memories. I have my cat and a cup of tea and I remember with the gentle rhythm of the rain keeping me sane.