Focus on the Rain...

She stared up at the window. She'd always liked the idea of stained or patterned glass. These two little panels of glass must have been new because she'd not noticed them before. As she watched the rain from outside and the condensation from inside seem to mix as they ran down the glass, she was transported back to the night before.

Sitting in the restaurant, the two had started at each other across the table for hours. Neither of them had eaten much, almost as if they couldn't, as opposed to not wanting to. The excitement seemed all too much for either of them to take. Yet they'd known each other for years, at least for what had seemed like years.
Still, that night was actually the first time they'd been out for dinner together. In many ways it wasn't the dinner that was important, it was being in the same room together. Holding a conversation face to face. Being able to gauge a reaction straight away.

After dinner it had been a walk. A walk in the rain. It didn't seem to matter that it was on the cold side, or that the cars that went past splashed water from the puddles up onto their jeans. It was about the conversation, the depth, the sharing.

The night seemed to go on forever, as if the world had stopped. They must have walked for miles. Eventually reaching the car park. It must have been the early hours by that point, but ever so faintly they could make out the far off sunrise in the colouring of the sky that could be seen above the trees at the bottom of the hill.

They didn't really say goodbye. They didn't really "do" goodbyes. They embraced, a long tight, firm hug. As they pulled away a little their eyes met. One lingering kiss.
They each got into their cars and drove away.

She went back to her friend's house, where yet again she was staying. It was comforting there, old friends, good times, history. So she stared out from under the white duvet, towards the window at the congruence of the water droplets, touched her bottom lip and remembered that goodbye.