July 24, 2025

Someone once wanted to race raindrops.

The rules were simple. On a rainy day, we would each pick a single drop sliding down the car window. You pointed at yours, I pointed at mine, and we’d watch. The weight of the rain and the movement of the car—together they decided which drop would fall first.

Sometimes the drops clung stubbornly to the glass, and no winner could be declared.

Sometimes her raindrop slipped away before mine.

Sometimes mine reached the bottom first.

But you never knew—

That from that moment on, every rainy day became a quiet ritual. I would always choose the window seat, press my finger lightly to the cold glass, and point at a raindrop. Then I’d wait. I’d wonder if it would fall, if it would linger, if it would outlast the others.

And in my heart, I was always asking:

If it were you, which raindrop would you choose?

Would yours fall first? Would you win?

I think you would.

You always would.