June's rain had washed away all the pain and replaced it with a new me. I changed a lot that month, locked up in my newly painted green walls, healing my skin and my mind. Forever cold air radiated my body, a lack of sunshine proved me who I am today. I felt the agony of not being like everyone else for the first time. I felt quiet, yet inwardly at war with myself, feeling more confused than ever.

I was consumed in a "fantasy" world of sporadic love and muted violence, lost in the questions I had, "Why can't it be real?". Who says it wasn't? Human minds are often ignorant. Searching for answers, I set out to find myself, for I was the only person in the world who could do that.

What I found was quite intriguing, but highly illogical in the minds of the indifferent, even though proven scientifically correct. The disbelief was flattening my chances at evolving myself in my path of discovery. I learned that, I should be the person that I trust most. Not everyone is as incredibly, and heart-breakingly open minded as I am. In a way, it is necessary for me to know this.

Until I find truth, I will remain this way, shying away from spots of light and lingering in the shadows to find a creature as wretchedly detached from society as I am.

What might really be the answer, is that I am utterly and depressingly, psychologically set apart from the rest of the world. And no one will ever fully understand why I think certain things, and I will never fully understand why they don't think the same way.

It rained for three weeks that month.

It was a very distinct and prevalent thing to me, but nobody else seems to recall or remember how much it actually did rain. I think I know why I feel a connection to rain now. As I was shaping a new me, staring out the window into the rain, it became a part of me, as if it helped create a new mind for me. It remains, forever a piece inside of my body, a host for my thoughts.