Stormy Days in June

I vaguely remember a day like this, years and years ago. It was also raining. But life was young, and one can actually find one's self humming along with life's songs. Music was made by then young hearts, holding hands in the rain, discovering the wonders that kisses can bring. In their hearts, hope was abundant that their music, the song they have created that stormy night, would last.
Well, like all good things, it did not.
Barely a year later, on another stormy day in June, they started singing a different song. They have learned that sadness, as much as hope, creates its own unique tune. And having learned that even roses have thorns, they drifted apart, substituting new hard notes for once simple love songs. Grew up, grew apart, fell down, and rose up again. But always, from then on, on their own, never, ever together again.
This is their story. Mind you, it is not a sad one. Love, even if it once brought pain, does not leave bitterness in its wake. He went his own way, so did she. Life went on. They have always been free.

Still, it always rains this time in June...


(This is for Mr. Cool, who I've not been friends with ever since. I vowed to bring white roses to a certain place in memory of those June days. I never did. But its good to remember people one once loved.)