the rain spoke softly against the dark,
and the streets shimmered like they were holding secrets.
You were somewhere out there,
on a slow bus ride home,
no umbrella,
just the sound of rain keeping you company.
And I..
I couldn’t sit still knowing that.
So I went,
through the drizzle and dim streetlights,
not because you asked,
but because you didn’t have to.
You looked at me like I was unexpected warmth,
like kindness you didn’t prepare for.
But to me,
it was simple
of course I’d come.
Years passed, quietly,
like pages turning without noise.
Then one day,
the sky broke open again
and this time it was me
standing alone at a station,
watching the rain fall heavier than I remembered.
And there you were.
Umbrella in hand,
like a familiar answer
to a question I didn’t say out loud.
You didn’t have to come.
But you did.
And in that moment,
I realized—
we’ve been taking turns
being the shelter for each other.
Not just from rain,
but from all the quiet storms
we never speak of.
-friendships for almost 9-10years
