I hate the rain, and I’ve mentioned this before – I hate the rain with a passion. The same kind of passion you would reserve for slimy bugs crawling up your favourite pair of shoes. I hate the rain because it brings back memories. 

I used to love snogging in the rain. Pretty much like they do in the movies. Pretty much they did in The Notebook. Like I have said all my life, I’m the queen of exaggerations. OTT comes naturally to me. And I’m a typical Cancerian woman who doesn’t like to be told what to do, let alone stand being criticised. 

Rain brings back so many memories, all of them way too intense to be kept to myself. So here’s one memory. 

I’ve just mentioned I don’t like being told what to do. I was seeing this guy who was perfect 👌🏼 in every which way except for one thing: I had to ask permission for everything. If I needed to call I had to ask via text if he could take my calls at that precise moment. If I had to text I had to send a ? to which he would reply accordingly. Meaning, he would send a what’s up if on his own and ignore completely/ send a don’t text now if with friends. He was an active gamer and fiercely independent and didn’t like to be held down, he said. Three months into the relationship I figured it wasn’t going anywhere. 

We kissed one last time in the rain and it was an amazing kiss and that was it. Like Celine Dion said, inevitable. Does anyone else hate the rain? 


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