If people were rain, I was a silent pitter-pattering on the pavement, while she was a destructive hurricane, destroying everything and everyone in her wake.

She loved mysteries so much that she became one. She loved adventures so much that she took me on a never-ending journey. We never parted until long after death.

I could never escape her shadow, even long after she was gone, but I learned to dance with her darkness and the wildness she held inside.

I find peace in the rain. Because, it’s okay to cry. The sky cries through rain all the time.

Pleuvoir said she loved rain, but she always opened her umbrella when the sky cried. She said she loved the sun, but she always found shade when it was sunny. She said she loved the wind, but she always closed her windows.

And this is why I was always afraid: she said she loved me too.

She lied because she was afraid of the truth. Her conscience was cloudy, and she lied as much as it rains in Oregon, where we lived back then. And it rains almost everyday there.

I love thunderstorms, because sometimes the sky cannot handle the pressure. And sometimes the sky explodes, just like me when I was with her.

I thought that by breaking up with her, I would escape her grasp. But, it was not like this.

She was always in the clouds, long after she was gone, waiting to fall like rain.

Her name was Pleuvoir, which means rain in French. My name is Soleil, which mean sun in French. We were both from Provence, and had moved to Oregon for college. We both went to Lewis and Clark, and met in a photo class.

She became more successful than me, something she held over me all my life. She became a National Geographic photographer, traveling all around the world. Meanwhile, I tried to start my own magazine in Portland called the 'Portland Piece,' but it failed.

Now I work at a small local paper, called the 'Portland Weekly.' I make $120 a week, while she makes $120 a day.

Well, Pleuvoir and I never really dated, we were just best friends. Until I saw her for who she really was, I thought I loved her. I thought the sun would not shine without her. But it did. In fact, it shines brighter without her in my life.

Now I am single and alone. Yes I have met a few girls, but no keepers.

Pleuvoir died in a car accident when she was thirty three. We had ended whatever we had five years earlier.

It was rainy the day she died, and the road she was driving on was slick, leading her to swerve into a large moving van.

I learned of her death a few days later, because her best friend Lillia felt she should tell me, her former lover. Lillia talked for awhile and said she admired me and even loved me a little. She always had.

Lillia had always picked me up and reminded me why to stay with Pleuvoir. I do not know why she did not try to end it with Pleuvoir and me. It just showed her loyalty.

Lillia and I hooked up a week later. Then a few years later, we married and had three beautiful children.

Now Lillia and I run a happy family, and every May 20th we celebrate the life of our good friend Pleuvoir because this is the day she died. It never fails to rain on that day, and it just reminds me that she is still here with us, in our hearts.

I have forgiven Pleuvoir for the lies. I have forgiven her for hurting me. I have forgiven myself. I have forgiven Lillia, though she has done nothing to hurt me. She saved me in a way.

So whenever it rains I remember Pleuvoir. I remember that I loved her because she always smiled when it rained. So I smile too, if not for me, for her. I will never forget Pleuvoir, and the heartbreak she caused me.

But hey, you can't have a rainbow without some rain. You can't live without a little sadness. So whenever I cry, I just remind myself that the sky cries all the time.

It is okay cry. Sadness is as important as happiness. At least that is what I try to teach my kids: Silvia, Franco, and Greta. They are so beautiful and they remind me that kids think the best of everyone. 

Kids think that no one will ever hurt them. But see, I have realized that people will hurt you, it is inevitable. You just have to find the ones worth suffering for. For me, Lillia and my children are. My ones worth suffering for. 

Love is truly transcendent, so to tie this all back together. If people were rain, I was a drizzle, and Pleuvoir was a downpour. And Lillia, she was right in between, a perfect balance of good and bad: of sadness and hope. 

Lillia and I live out our numbered days filled with hope, sadness, happiness, and just a bit of rain.