[Delusion Series] "Rain of Delusions"

It was a rainy night. When she left the cafe in front of the station, she didn't have an umbrella. To be precise, it wasn't that she didn't appear to have one, but rather she was just looking up at the sky with a slightly troubled expression. That gesture alone was enough to undo me.

Every time she makes a casual movement, she quietly twists my imagination like a form of violence. Tucking her hair behind her ear. Bringing a glass to her lips. Tilting her head just a little. With just that, I find myself racing ahead to a future I haven't even touched, catching fire on my own. Even though she hasn't done anything in reality, within me, she is always already dangerously close.

"Shall I walk you home?"

The voice that said that was surprisingly calm, even to my own ears. She looked at me for just a moment, then gave a small smile. That way of smiling is dangerous. It was so soft, so defenseless, that I felt as if I heard something inside my head quietly cracking.

"Just a little, then."

Just a little. With those few words, I began to write a long story all on my own. Walking side by side. The edge of the umbrella brushing against her shoulder. The feeling that something might happen in the silence, yet nothing does. The fact that nothing happens actually excites me terribly. That is the kind of person I am. I am destroyed more by the premonition of what might happen than by what actually does.

The rain fell thinly onto the sidewalk, unraveling the city lights. She walked a little ahead of me. She kept her gaze lowered, talking about nothing in particular. I nodded along, but I was barely listening. What I was listening to was the temperature of her voice. It was cold like raindrops, yet strangely sweet. Without knowing where that sweetness came from, I found myself growing thirsty on my own.

When we turned the corner, she stopped. The light from her house made the tips of her wet hair shimmer faintly. I think I should have said something then. But in reality, I couldn't say a word. Because I felt that the moment I put it into words, the heat that had swelled up too much inside me would spill out in a way that was far too pathetic.

She turned back and said, "Thank you."

That one word was enough. It was more than enough. I nodded and watched until she entered her doorway. The door closed. That was the end of it. Nothing had started. We hadn't touched. We hadn't made any promises. And yet, I walked the whole way home holding onto the void within me.

That night, I finally realized. It wasn't her who was tormenting me. It was my own delusions, which would take her casual gestures and assign them some special meaning.

And yet, the troublesome thing is, I couldn't bring myself to hate those delusions.
Precisely because nothing happened, I still remember the scent of that rain even now.
And every time I remember it, I find myself hoping, just a little, for something that hasn't happened yet.

Try doing this as a tip! 🤗