Nimbus clouds and Southwest winds

I am a kind of person who is fond of bad weather;

I love those days where dark, huge, rain clouds carpet the sky and pour their tears down us all—and how they are always in time with my mood. Like we had this secret connection that whenever I'm feeling depressed and wanted to be away with people, they will come.

Nimbus clouds, for me, are gifts to give myself a "personal me time". Ever since I was a kid, it had been some kind of a tradition of mine, that whenever rainy days come, I will content myself inside the house alone with everything I could possibly enjoy. Which is rare for me because I tend to go out a lot. So rainy days have become my exceptions. And maybe, that was where our friendship started.

I love waking up to the sound of rain. When the morning wind is chilly and the sky is charcoal gray. When the rest of the world seems to be still fast asleep in a doleful but peaceful manner.

I love the sound the raindrops make tapping on the windowpane or dancing on the rooftop. The sweet sorrowful lullaby that the wind echoes with each sway of the branch of trees.

At night, I shiver from the light coldness I get from the blanket and the bed sheet. I am cheered by the idea that the clouds above are hiding the stars for awhile to let me fall asleep, with rain accompanied by the sound of wind.

There's a certain serenity that I find in days and nights like these.

I feel like everything is in place. Everything is washed away, cleaned, including me.