#44 Chalfont St Peter in February

The rain knocked on my window over and over like an unwelcome guest and gathered itself on the canopy outside of my window, falling onto the patio beneath in huge drops.
I pulled my throw closer around me, nestling my chin against its velvety folds. The overcast sky prevents giddy children from racing down the streets in their pushbikes. On a day I like this, all I could do was sit inside with the heater on and think about my life. I depress myself dreadfully when I do that.
I always end up crying or praying, because my life just seems that fucked to me. Especially today. Today was a day of so many mishaps in my life: February 17th. Now I just stare out the window at my boring hometown and think, against my own wishes.

Two years ago, it was snowing and my brother was run over by three kids on toboggans. I remember his blood staining the snow.

Last year, my best friend killed herself, and ‘cos of this damned rain I can’t visit her grave.

It’s also my birthday but that hardly matters.

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