Love again, love me

    We never know where to start, are we? It is like a weird feeling you feel down your stomach, making everything seem painful and a big mess. I can remember this day vividly, it was a beautiful day of June, the Sun was covered by the grey clouds. Honestly it felt amazing, for me, to see that beautiful combination of colors, shades of purple, grey and maybe blue, made the coldness feel like home and the warmth slowly disappear. The storm was so close, making every single person run away and hide, I never got why people run way from the beautiful silver drops that would create this curtain that would cover the city. The lights almost making these drops look like little crystals ready to let a slightly icy trace on everyone's skin. I love the rain, it makes me feel so free, and I know that maybe liking this wonderful phenomenon doesn't make me special, but it makes me feel like it.                                                    Of course, many people will say that it is pretty simple to talk about it when you are enjoying your warm, black liquid in a cafe and you just watch through a window how everything happens. Those many do not know that in fact I use to run and jump through the rain, letting my black locks get wet and become this curly mess I have to handle later. Sometimes I wish that someone will come with an umbrella and accompany me and my childish self, it never happened and it is never too late, tho.                    But we are not here to talk about my pleasures, are we? Actually, my train of thoughts happened to interrupt when my gaze found these most beautiful grey eyes, that would hide the wildness in the soul and some neutrality I cannot describe yet. Those eyes were matched by those ginger locks, that type of color that would seem like a dusk nobody saw till then and that smile that could make you feel important and gorgeous. That smile, you know that smile.     Do I lie when I tell you that this description was made from a place of hate? I hated those eyes, I hated that hair, I hated that beautiful pale skin and they way that hand will caress my cheek. I hated all of it. Of course near that person was this phenomenon of red haired beautiful demon. I can call someone a demon if their eyes were filled with hatred and malice? But those golden eyes, even filled with hate, could conquer the light of the sun. I did not know their names, I did not know anything about them, but the color of their hair, their eyes and their skin. I did not care to find out more or I can't remember more about this day.     What I surely know is that I envied them, every little thing of them made me feel a little bit of envy, maybe jealousy. I wanted what they had, I wanted those laughs and the way they looked at each other. I wanted someone to love me like they loved each other. This jealousy wouldn't come from a place of hatred, it was coming from a place of agony, of melancholy, a place of I do not know how to explain it, but it was intense. I can remember them but I can't remember anything else, or maybe I do? I can't recall anything else.