The second the first raindrop falls onto the ground, I know that I’m about to do something I could end up regretting. I’d checked the forecasts, just like anyone does on a day to day basis, so I knew this was coming. I just didn’t expect the weather to bring back so many memories. So many promises and fears. And, least of all, I didn’t expect myself to act on my intrusive thoughts. But here we are.

I’m standing outside of your house, currently getting soaked by the rainfall thats quickly turned into torrential downpour. Lightning strikes above my head, thunder claps in the distance, and I know I shouldn’t be here. But I couldn’t stop myself.

Six months ago, we broke up. It was messy and both of our faults. The one thing we wanted to work the most in our lives—us—just wasn’t happening. We tried and we tried, and we hurt each other in the process. Up until the day we called it quits. The love between us almost felt too powerful. Perhaps it was the thing that destroyed us after all?

We were so in love to the point of it being painful. Even though we were only together for as long as we’ve been apart now, what we had is still unmatched. We knew each other down to our cellular makeups. Every quirk, tick, or fear.

That’s why I’m here. Because I know you so well. You are terrified of rain storms.

Not just anxious or a little fidgety when they happen, I’m talking full blown panic attacks. Hiding under covers, plugging your ears, and taking anxiety medication just to calm down. I’d only witnessed it once when we were together, and your fear gripped me, wrapped around my heart and made me make promises to you.

I promised that I’d always be with you whenever there was a thunderstorm. I guess I intend on keeping that promise.

Before I can psych myself out, I knock on your front door, immediately going back to my pacing on your porch. I have no idea what your reaction will be to my being here. You’ll probably be mad, shoo me away and assure me that you don’t need me anymore. Even if your bones are shaking with fear and there’s tear stains on your cheek.

How am I expected to get you to understand my motives for being here if I don’t even understand them myself?

After five minutes of waiting, your front door creaks open. My pacing halts, standing a few feet away from you for the first time in six months. It feels like I can’t breathe. You’re merely a silhouette in the dark weather, hidden by the few lit candles you have inside. But I can feel your gaze burn holes into my sopping wet clothes.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” is the first thing I say, and it’s so stupid. “Actually, that’s a lie. I know why I’m here, and I think you do too…” I wish I could see your face, gauge your reaction. But the lightning strikes do nothing to illuminate your face, only giving me glimpses of the way you flinch every time they come. “It’s storming out here and I know you’re scared. You won’t tell me that you are, but I know you. I promised that you would never have to go through a storm without me there. And I know it’s stupid of me to just show up, but when I promise something, I keep that promise. I can leave if you want, but I don’t think you want to be alone tonight. Just… Just let me inside and we can just sit and wait this thing out, yeah?”