Hope is drizzling onto my skin

It's raining. Grey skies, puffy silver clouds with no devious gaps, that desperately try to let in some sunshine; the world is lovely right here and now. Every bad day, painful experience, heartbreaking event, embarrassing occurrence, or disappointing situation can be erased with a rain drop. I think Regina Spektor said it best, when she sang, "Raindrops are falling on my head, but that doesn't mean that I am dead. I do not know, where does it go, when it goes? Suddenly though, every thing's slow and I miss you so. In a town that's cold and grey, we will have a sunny day." I'm head over heels in love with the rain. When the first sheets of "gloom" cover the sky, my mind is clouded and a layer of naïvety and happiness coats my brain, deleting every bit of sadness that I've ever felt. And even now, as I parade through the bullets of rain, wearing clothes that will not prevent, but rather promote, a vicious cold, I feel limitless, immeasurable, everlasting, and infinite. Oh, how delighted I'd be to see a flicker of lightning or hear a rumble of thunder. I have never been a girl who loves the sunshine, ironic as that is. I would love to move to Seattle, Washington, where it rains for 9 months out of the year. Rain is the most beautiful of all weather patterns. Snow, sunshine, hail, wind; nothing compares to the grace and the delicate movement of rain. I'm lucky enough to have the room with the end of the gutters; this allows me to hear the rain at the highest volume throughout the night. Rain gives me a feeling of boundless hope, and, in my eyes, raindrops shine brighter than the sun.