I was 21 years old looking out of a friend’s window. Outside it was pouring; long rivers of water had taken over the streets; I was thinking about staying or going back, staying or going somewhere else.
Water, never takes those types of breaks. Rain just falls over the city and makes its way to the ocean. Puffy clouds, to dark clouds, to drops, to streams, to vapor. What was I? A drop? The vapor?
Why do I remember that day? Because that day I decided to keep on going; staying was not yet the answer. I am now 28, and maybe I am a gray cloud; I feel soft and light but I know that, inside me, there is a storm brewing. I am ready to fall all over a city.
Maybe I am just not the iceberg kind of girl, I will never be able to stick somewhere and float along for decades. I hope I am wrong, but looking out of this new window; I feel sure of it.