HOW COULD I FORGET YOU?

Once again, it is raining, and once again, I feel the urge to go out barefoot, to run through the rain and make paper boats. It seems I still do not understand—or perhaps I simply refuse to grasp—that I no longer have the steadfastness and security of your hand that makes me feel like a child again. And yet, despite this, I cannot forget those rainy days in my hometown when I clung to you, as you held my hand and ran through the rain right there beside me.

Then, as my mind grows clouded and my heart beats wildly in a frenzy, I search for you among the clouds in the sky—lost in a mad delirium of suppressed emotions that intertwine and surge until they border on utter madness. But the wind, brushing against my body, answers me: you are not there…

Then I cry out, asking the wind: “How could I forget you?” For your memory beats within my heart, keeping time with the rhythm of the rain that drenches my body. I try to count the raindrops as they crash against my face, dissolving the tears that well up in my eyes. I recall your scent amidst a blend of pain and despair, for I can no longer feel the contours of your face; and the rain touching my body, answers me: you are not there…

I am desperate, for the wind and the rain seem to conspire against me—a whirlwind of ice threatening to shatter every single one of my memories. As I collapsed to the ground, I cry out to the wind once more—my voice heavy with the dense darkness I carry deep inside: “How could I forget you?” When I see you in every woman who runs through the rain simply for the joy of it? When I search for you in the cold, wet hail that lashes against my skin, which serves only to remind me that your side of the bed now lies empty? And the wind, caressing my body, answers me:  not there…

The rain has ceased. The water still flows across the ground. A beautiful rainbow has formed in the sky. Birds flutter among the tree branches, singing their songs once again. The sunbeams have warmed the wind. And now, at last, I can see the smile of your lips reflected in every one of them. Then I realize that fear and doubt have already drifted away from my thoughts. So, gently, I ask the wind: “How could I forget you? If you live within my heart.” And the warm wind—touching my body, caressing my feelings, and dispelling the dense darkness that once dwelt deep within me—answers: “You can never forget me, for you live within me, and I am your reflection…”