Whenever I describe myself, I always end up mentioning this peculiar fact about me: Every time I am celebrating a special occasion, there’s always a heavy downpour.
I have no idea why, it just is. And I’m not even exaggerating. (You may also find this tidbit in my About Me page.)
Today (or yesterday, rather) my boyfriend and I celebrated our 4th year anniversary. I was expecting rainfall, but it didn’t happen. It was hot and sunny the entire day, I just couldn’t believe it. Even Cy was astonished. Perhaps the trend has been broken?
I told him, I’m not sure if I’ll be happy or sad that it didn’t rain. He got confused for a while there, and so I explained— After years and years of experience, I have already embraced the fact that it would always rain whenever I celebrate something. Instead of viewing it as a curse or jinx, I considered it a blessing. I always tell myself, God is showering me with blessings on this special day.
But now, since it didn’t rain, I don’t know what to think. I was so used to it already that it felt strange, which is also strange because I should be happy that the weather is good.
You know what? 11:38 PM tonight, it suddenly rained. With less than 30 minutes before the day ends, the downpour came. And it wasn’t your average rain shower, mind you. We’re talking about crazy heavy rain accompanied by loud thunderclaps. It was as if the heavens did its best to hold the rain until I’m safely home, and only then did it unleash all that pent-up rain.
It was crazy, but I’m crazier because I felt relieved. Everything is back to normal, I still haven’t broken my streak. I’m normally not superstitious, but it feels good, you know what I mean? Whatever the rain symbolizes, I am convinced that it’s a sign that better things are yet to come.
Oh, I hope so.