If everything was good (5)

If everything was good, maybe then this would have been a good season. We would have gone out on a walk and met rain on the way. You would have forgotten the umbrella, and we would have taken shelter at the roadside eatery. And that would be our little date there eventually, watching the rain sipping warm tea. This is probably better ambience than the cafe you wanted to visit for a cappuccino. The breeze is cold, I would have put my arm around you. And when the rain would have settled to a drizzle, I'd again insist on a walk back instead of a cab to prolong the evening. I've always loved walking holding your hand, sometimes your waist and sometimes you holding my arm in that signature way of yours. We would have inadvertently held each other in all the ways in the duration of the walk. Anytime I left your hand or waist your reflexes would have done the signature grip around my arm. And we would have talked, smiled and laughed along the way. Later at night, when the world would be hit by a storm, there will be a furious wind, lightning and thundering, we'd be unaware of it all. Because our world inside our room would be full of love, lust and romance. And when there's calmness both outside and inside, we'd be exhausted and you'd sleep on my arm, again in another signature way of yours. You said you sleep peacefully on my arm. If only everything was good. But nothing is good these days. Not a morning, not a night. And this season, not at all. Gloomy days and stormy nights. Destruction all around, innocent people losing home and put in misery. I haven't been safe either even within safe and sound concrete walls. The storm inside me even more destructive than the one outside, you see. I shall hate this spring forever.