This is you. Eyes closed, out in the rain. You never tought you'd be doing something like this. You never saw yourself as, I don't know how you'd describe it, as... like one of those people who like looking up at the moon, or who spend hours gazing at the waves or the sunset or... I guess you know what kind of people I'm talking about. Maybe you don't. Anyway, you kinda like it being like this; fighting the cold and feeling the water seep through your shirt and getting trhough to your skin. And feeling the ground growing soft beneath your feet. And the smell. And the sound of the rain hitting the leaves. All the things they talk about in the books that you haven't read. This is you. Who would have guessed it? You.
-My life without me.