It rained. Not expected but most certainly welcome, I imagine that it brought everyone joy and respite. I did not witness how it started but I assume it was at the crack of dawn when the stillness in the air suddenly gave way to a wintry sensation. The sky was still under transition into the light of a new day, slightly unsure of its hues. It must have been a wonderful sight, a curious palette if you may. The pitch black gradually being erased by a blazing streak of orange and pink; and suddenly every color being overpowered by a nothing but a bleak shade of grey.
The clouds occupied the sky without warning and thundered, gently at first; considerately nudging me out of my sleep. I opened by eyes wearily. I am sure they must have looked tired, complementing my weary face still stained with tears. My room was supposed to be filled with soft rays of the rising sun at this time. Instead, it remained as dark as last night. I hesitantly felt the other side of my bed but as expected, found it empty. “I guess both sides are mine now”, I thought as the muffled gurgling turned into a booming eruption and downpour began.
I heard footsteps in the kitchen and an unexplained melange of hope and dread came over me. I quickly made my way and he was still there. For a moment we just stared at each other; nothing was spoken and nothing was felt. Before I knew it I let out a chuckle and he looked quizzically at me.
“I did not know this was possible”, I said.
“What”, he asked with air of resignation.
“Staring into your gaze and not feeling a thing.”
“Why else do you think we are separating?”
I did not know what to say. Words had become superfluous long ago. Months and months of debating with myself as well as him had finally drained us. All that was left of us were meaningless actions and empty stares. We looked at each other silently for another few moments as the rain drops clattered on the roof, rhythmically spelling our doom.
“What are we going to tell our friends”, I asked suddenly.
“We just couldn’t make it”, he said with another shrug of resignation. “Besides, I don’t think we owe them any explanation. And how can we explain to them if we cannot explain this to ourselves,” he added as an afterthought.
“True,” I said as my eyes wandered off to his suitcase lined outside. “Let me know if you find an explanation. I want to know whose fault this is.”
He gave a non committal nod as our silence filled the kitchen again. It is hard to remember when the silence between us had turned from a companionable one to a discontent one. For months to come, I could see myself tormenting myself to find answers; probe every moment of our relationship and think where to assign blame. I knew it would be fruitless and in the end, I would be as hapless as I was at that moment.
“I will make some breakfast,” I said quickly, relieved at finding something to do. He did not protest. Neither did he agree. He just stood there as I busied myself with the pots and pans, wondering all along whether it was him or me who was the first to give up. We ate our last meal quietly. No one brought up the fact that it was not seasoned enough. We simple chewed and swallowed, eyes on each other again, searching for something.
The rain had let up. He looked out of the window and stood up. He walked back to the kitchen and washed his hands. Then, he picked his suitcase and without a word, walked out of the door. I stood up and cleared the plates. I hoped that the water splashing on the plates would drown the sound of him driving away. It didn’t.
After a while, I finally stepped outside the house. It was refreshingly cool outside. The air was redolent with the earthy smell I loved so much. The birds were chirping happily on their newly washed trees. But all I could see were the fallen flowers in my garden; petals scattered all over; unfortunate preys to the rains.