A Song of the Heart

A drop appeared on the windscreen, then, another drop, and another drop. The drops appeared more and more quickly and clustered nearer and nearer each other. The whole windscreen slowly filled up with one drop after another; the scene outside slowly blurred out of focus. Maybe it was the raindrops, maybe it was the tears that had gradually flowed out in the last five or so minutes.

It was not the first time his heart was broken. It had happened countless times before, but with age playing catch up, the last few heart breaks had been considerably harder and harder to handle. Even when logic had dictated that it might have been for the best that things have ended. The pain never really gets any easier to handle. The heart was not an organ soothed by logic. The heart strings that played the melody of our emotions were never going to be appeased by the cold, heartless emotionless logic.

The rain had become a steady waterfall silencing the outside world. You couldn’t hear the nearby cars whizz by in the rain. You couldn’t hear the engine of the car a few lots away. You couldn’t hear the sobs that had slowly become louder and louder. All you could hear was the gentle pitter-patter of the raindrops that fell onto the metallic roof of the car. It was a soothing rhythm that followed the rhythm of the broken heart. Perhaps that was why the rain was soothing. It played a song the heart could understand. Perhaps it was fortunate that it was the rainy season.

As suddenly as the rain had fallen, the rain had abated. The next raindrop took longer and longer to fall. Eventually, there was no more rhythm. The remaining raindrops gathered in large drops and streaked across the windscreen, leaving clear cracks in the veil that had once prevented outsiders from seeing into the car. With more and more cracks forming on the veil, the crying automatically ceased. Tears were hurriedly rubbed away. Tissues were hastily chucked onto the floor. A quick last blow of the nose as the tropical sun broke its rays through the dissipating dark clouds. Society did not want to see a crying broken man.

The window was rolled down to allow fresh air to flow into the car. The last remnants of the rain fell with a pompous aplomb, hitting the roof of the car defiantly, denying the end of the shower. The fresh smell of nature wafted into his nose, pushing out the stench the tears had left behind. Even though the weather had turned for the better, the emotions inside were still the same. There was still a darkness that hovered about. With the moving on of the rain, the man had to leave too. There was nothing left here for him. He would have to wait till the next opportunity when his heart strings could be soothed by the rainy symphony.