She stepped down and leaned up against the bathroom wall.

All she could think of was the rain, and so, she mumbled abruptly: “can you see the rain? It means that if God exists, she’s weeping.” She had lost all that was important to her lately, and so, she continued to mumble that perhaps, God is in her “time of the month”. Funny, isn’t it?

Her loss was not all materialistic, in fact, it was not materialistic at all – she said that she had stopped believing, and you could see it in her eyes as soon as she stopped mumbling unrecognizable syllables out of her mouth.

“Stopped believing in what?”, I asked. “Just, simply, believing” she replied. “Believing that there’s a reason for me to eat or breath or get up in the morning, get dressed, and get my lazy a** out of bed”, she explained.

And then, as the conversation continued, and with it, the speculations regarding today and tomorrow and the day after continued to entangle – she woke up all of the sudden, and got to the realization that she was, in fact, all alone. That the bathroom was really not as full of life as she thought. In it, lied three creatures, and three creatures only: a manifestation of her subconscious, herself – or her body at least, and the cold cold air storming from the outside in.

I was not really there, on that dark-rainy-bloody Friday night, as she wept alongside God, and bled along her side as well.

And as the cuts in between the red droplets of liquid coming out of her veins continued to multiply and deepen – she saw herself emerging on a journey, only at the end of which she may find God, and thus, she may find out that she was not weeping alone, and, that she would never have to weep alone ever again for all eternity.

And frankly, even if there’s nothing on the other side, it was all worth the while.