Looking out the rain-patterned window, the sunset blurs and drips down the pane.

The colors blend and weave together. Soon I’ll open the door and step out, letting it slam behind me, letting the cold pour down my face, making my butterfly colors blend, blur, and fall. Let my mask disappear.

If he was here, he’d tell me I’m silly, for wanting to become one with the rain. For wanting to disappear down the river, to the ocean, to cease to be an individual.
But he’s not.

This abandoned house is empty,quiet except for the sound of teardrops and rain hitting the floor. It’s cold. I feel cold. My insides have frozen.
The wind picks up, throws leaves around. It’s fall now, coming to winter.
I’m coming to winter.

I stand, startling the black cat by my feet. Move to the door. Open.
The rain is still falling.

Looking back at what I had, a tear floats down my face, reaches the river at my feet. It’s truly abandoned now. I’m leaving too.

I step out, look up.
It’s beautiful.
It’s as if the sky is melting.

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