I used to have this friend named Emily. She was tall and pale and one of those rare people you meet that can make anything fun. You couldn't tell just by looking at her, but she was a wild soul. She swayed and zigzagged through life like a falling leaf; though she never seemed to hit the ground.












One rainy summer afternoon, Emily and I sat on my large canopy bed, watching mindlessly as rain trickled down my bedroom window. Then, without warning, she jumped to her feet, her liquid topaz eyes alight with excitement.






“I’m bored Chris. Let’s go for a walk.”







Before I could protest, she dragged me off the bed and tossed my raincoat at me. In a matter of seconds, we were standing outside as great sheets of water poured down our backs.
“You’re crazy,” I told her.









She looked back at me and grinned, laughter dancing in those damn eyes of hers.


“I know,” she said, simply.









Then, we were running down the street, letting pieces of ourselves fall along the way. We ran all the way to Central Park, laughing and singing for the world to hear. It didn’t matter that it was pouring and our clothes were drenched and clinging to our bodies like a second skin. We were simply giving ourselves to this unexpected downpour, dancing along to its rhythmic beat.

At some point, Emily stopped in the middle of the park, raised her head towards the silver sky, and closed her eyes, letting the raw, beating rain cascade over her. Her smile washed away and got lost somewhere in the darkness. At the moment, I no longer saw my friend as confident and wild. She became just like the rest of us-lost and afraid.





It turned out that throughout our friendship, Emily battled with depression. She was sad and lonely, and I never knew it. I think the rain did something for her that day, or maybe it didn't, I don’t know. What I do know is that this world we are all born into is so damn hard. However, if we can allow ourselves to dance with the rain, to be fearless, then we can make it through anything.