Thoughts and Raindrops

I thought I could just stop posting on this damnable thing, however, I find that I need a place to vent my thoughts. Even if they seem angry, hurt or otherwise bitter. I need some place to just let it all go. Affecting no one. Hurting no one. At least, not intentionally.

Today the rain pelts my windows, making me think of times passed. Making me remember the little attic room I lived in during my stay in Maine. Remembering the smell that it had. Remembering what little I had then, what little I had left with to go to Colorado. What little I returned with. Remembering the color of the walls, and the memories made there. No, they weren't all happy. Yes, some of them were blissful. I wouldn't be surprised if the windowsill still showed nail marks.

I think of the little town in Florida I lived in. There wasn't much. Dirt roads, and a few fast food resturants. Yet my mind flies back there. Remembering the huge bathtub. The candle light, and the sound of coon hounds on the hunt.

I remember my apartment at the Breakers. How safe I had felt. How comfortable and blissfully quiet. How I enjoyed my time there. How I loved the lay of the land. The utter quiet that seemed to encompass where I lived. The sound the fireplace made, the heat it offered. How I would have enjoyed a romantic dinner in front of it.

They say smell is connected directly with memory. And the rain brings back so many memories. Good and bad. Welcome, and frightening. I do not regret. My path has been my own. My path, while wild and seemingly carefree, has been wrought with pain and dangers. Yet, it has been my own. Of my own choosing. When I meet the Divine, I will know that I lived life as I desired. That I loved, laughed and lived to the best of my ability.