I once was involved with an unsuitable man. Here’s a note from me to him to the ether.

It might not be the rain. It’s more a combination of city streets, and late at night, and that particular smell after the rain has come down. There are some places that still jolt my heart a little, even though you and I are a story long ago. Some streets I cannot walk without thinking of you. You marked your territory in your mind, and I can write over it but you (and I) are still there.

One rainy night I came to meet you, even though I knew I shouldn’t. I got on the bus (though I knew I shouldn’t), and walked into the bar, (though I knew I shouldn’t). I was pretending we were just friends (though I knew I shouldn’t). Yes, that same old story.

Why go to meet you, when we’d agreed that this proximity taunting of each other needed to stop? Why go to meet you, stand next you and make polite conversation with your friend when I wished no-one else in the room?

Two drinks in and you unexpectedly make our excuses. Outside, it is pouring down as only October can. I worry about your friend making his way home, and you say we should lose him. We’re off down a side street and I feel stupidly giddy. I have you to myself, we’re getting drenched and I don’t want to go home. There’s a minor scuffle over whether your jacket is going over my shoulders, leaving you in shirt sleeves. I can’t remember whether I accept - did I?

The rain gets heavier and you pull me into a doorway. Snug. Ever so friendly in here, isn’t it? Of course we kiss. I spent most of my time with you trying not to kiss you. My feet are getting wet from the little rivulets of water, with my unsuitable canvas shoes. I want you. I wanted you so badly. And always these temporary kisses: sheltering from the rain, on our way home, in the dark corner of a bar. Our kisses were always stolen somehow.

The rain ceases to matter. I would have kissed you in any meteorological condition. How to explain without reverting to worlds not turning, and our lips meeting… There was only you when we kissed.  There was no just friends, there was no shouldn’t be there, there was no rain. Just me and you.

You should know that.

And then you walked me to the bus stop. And I sat on the bus alone; thinking of no rain, and my heart in the pit of my stomach.