I had a one-sided conversation with God last night. I berated him for his knowledge of where she was. For he must have known. I yelled at him in mind through his Nazarene son for keeping that knowledge from me. If he exists as the Lancea et Sanctum believe he does, then he has much to answer for.
I hate him.
He remained silent, stoic on his cross. Not at all forthcoming with the information that I sought. The answers to my questions. Why he took her from me. But she appeared beside me as though a dream. She sat beside me and all I could smell was the laundry detergent and the smell of crocuses. The morning dew.
I'm surprised Mitcherlich didn't know I liked the rain.
We walked from the Church and then ran in the rain. A rain that just materialized out of a dream, falling in a downpour. As though an answer to a prayer or some of my questions. Not in words but in actions. We ran through - she trying to run from me, and I trying to give chase. Is this the way of our relationship? That I will forever be running after her and she just a half-step ahead? Only when she allows me to, she lets me catch her - take her wrist and take a kiss from her.
Let the rain fall.
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