September 10, 2025

I hate rainy days.

I hate the dampness — that heavy, lingering weight in the air.

I hate having to carry an umbrella wherever I go.

The soft drizzle, the sharp patter — falling against this fog-black canopy.

I hate the splashes that rise with each step,

the mud clinging to the hems of my pants.

I hate how the rain ruins my hair.

I hate the crowds of people under umbrellas,

brushing past, awkwardly colliding — one canopy against another.

I hate how I can’t let go of the umbrella,

though I no longer want to hold it.

I hate that I’m too cautious to run wild through the rain.

I hate how it weighs on the heart — this heaviness,

is it only me who feels it, or does everyone?

I hate everything the rain brings —

the wind, the slippery roads,

the dripping leaves, the colorless cars and faces passing by.

And yet… perhaps, I don’t hate it that much after all.