The wind has picked up. The rain has started falling piercingly through the crevices of the fabrics of my clothes. Ah, the typical Victoria wintriness is once again here to remind us of itself, always in the most salient fashion. The wind is not the same without the rain and vice versa. So seamlessly they came together. So timely they befell the miserable soul of mine. So perfectly they concealed the contortion of my face and the warm tears of my eyes in the bittersweet symphony they so effortlessly whipped up. And I am just a nameless nobody, like millions of others helplessly caught in the storm. My toque drenched in rain and my coat blown to pieces, my mind is simulating an adrenaline-pumping episode of a panic attack, where no words are uttered and no smiles are faked. Do not pretend that I am fine. I am suffering for your failure and blaming myself for the anger I have for you. Do not forget what had happened for so shamefully I have stripped myself naked before them. Do not overlook the signs your body tries to warn you. I cannot stand to witness you fall again. Do not ever lie in my face. No leniency is to be granted. Here in my episode are so many unspoken words you will never hear and so many heart-felt emotions I will take to my grave.
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